


The Year of a Relationship

by Jade4813



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-17
Updated: 2006-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 69,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade4813/pseuds/Jade4813
Summary: Milestones in Lois and Clark's relationship, taken from different periods in their lives and presented over the course of a year.Originally published on ff.net.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. January

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a wonderful fanfic I read on the Prologue website many years ago called Progression, by Seersha.

"Honestly, Chloe. I don't know why you haven't moved past thing you have for Smallville. Do you feel your life is missing a crucial element of brooding and moping? Is it the plaid? You've gone just a little bit batty after having to look at it day in and day out for years, haven't you? I really think someone should look into the traumatic effect this can have on a person's psyche." Lois gave her cousin a look of deep concern as they sprawled out on Mr. Sullivan's sofa, sharing a much-needed quiet evening together.

Chloe grinned and brushed her spiky blonde hair out of her laughing green eyes. "Cute, Lois. And it was never about the plaid."

Throwing her cousin a skeptical look, the older woman said, "Right. It was his charming personality and devil-may-care attitude that attracted you."

"You know, Clark really can be sweet and fun to be around!" Chloe protested in defense of her friend, then amended her comment, "When he's not around you."

"What can I say? I bring out the best in him!" Lois grinned and tossed her long brown ponytail over her shoulder in a defiant gesture. "Anyway, to get back to the point, I don't see what you see in that guy! Exactly which one of his most irritating qualities gets your heart doing summersaults? Because, I have to tell you, I've watched him _pretty_ closely since I met him, and I just don't see the attraction." Okay, that wasn't quite true. At her first meeting with Clark, she saw a lot that could cause a girl's head to turn – even when keeping her eyes north of the border. However, she'd learned enough from the conversations she'd shared with her cousin in the years before Lois had come to Smallville to know that, in Clark's case, looks weren't everything. He and Chloe had danced around each other long enough, in Lois's estimation, and it was always Chloe who got hurt in the end. That Clark had failed to impress the feisty brunette in any of their subsequent meetings only made her more determined to protect her best friend's heart from taking any more damage, and she promised she would do so if she had to tie the other girl down and force feed pictures of Keanu Reeves to her until she caved.

To Lois's increasing irritation, however, she saw Chloe smile softly to herself and, if she wasn't mistaken, get a dangerously dreamy look in her eye. "Oh, there's plenty attractive about Clark Kent, Lois. You just have to look." Lois had to forcibly restrain an urge to gag.

She scoffed. "Maybe those baby blues have taken away your sanity, but mine is still intact. Clark Kent is nothing more than a farmboy from Podunk, Nowheresville with a savior complex and nothing much more going for him. He'll grow up, marry his high school sweetheart, and settle down to have a pack of rugrats as insufferable as he is. If tomorrow I uncovered an unhealthy attraction he has towards the local livestock (and, mind you, I'm not ruling that out yet), it would be the only passably interesting thing to discover about the guy. With him, what you see is what you get, and, frankly, I wouldn't find that appealing if he were the last guy on earth. But that's just me."


	2. February

"Well, Smallville, I guess this is goodbye. I know you're overcome with sorrow at the prospect of my leaving, but try not to get too weepy, okay? It's embarrassing," Lois teased her companion as she punched him lightly on the arm and grinned.

Clark rolled his eyes. "You know, it would be a lot easier for me to contain myself if you would leave just a little bit faster. If there's anything I can do to help that along, just let me know."

Lois laughed. She and Clark had done their share of friendly (and not so friendly) bickering over the years she'd lived in Smallville, and while they'd never become the best of friends, there was something about him that she was going to miss. Not that she'd tell him that. Ever. Under threat of torture.

Looking past her, Clark saw his mom struggling to get through the front door of the Talon with the last box of Lois's stuff. He ran up to Mrs. Kent to relieve her of it, and she smiled in thanks at her son before turning her attention on the woman who was almost like a daughter to her. "Now, Lois, I went ahead and packed some warm sweaters in your suitcase. You know how it cold it can get at this time of year, especially in the evenings, and I'm not sure that you packed enough to stay warm. I don't want you to get chilly. I also left a box on the passenger seat with some sandwiches and things in it, in case you get hungry on the road. Are you sure you have everything you need? I could…"

Lois laughed and shook her head, interrupting what was sure to be a long list of things Mrs. Kent was more than willing to provide 'just in case'. "Thanks, Mrs. Kent, but I'll be okay. I'm going to Metropolis, not Nepal. And even if I were going to Nepal, I've been there before. I'll be fine." She ran up to the worrying woman and enveloped her in a big hug. "Thanks so much, Mrs. Kent. I'm really going to miss you."

She felt the sting of tears she was too stubborn to release and squeezed her mother figure a little tighter before letting go. When she saw that Mrs. Kent wasn't too proud to let her emotions show, Lois almost caved. But then Mrs. Kent said, "Well, I'll leave you two to say your goodbyes now. Remember you're free to visit any time you want, Lois. You're always welcome at our house." Turning, the redheaded woman went inside, and Lois was left alone with Clark, who had a very uncomfortable look on his face.

"So," Clark began, but then he trailed off, at a loss for something to say. Lois sympathized. She didn't know what to say to someone who was no longer quite an enemy but wasn't quite a friend either. "I'll miss you" seemed trite, not to mention a little false. There was a lot about Clark that she was more than happy to leave behind. Still…there was also a thing or two she couldn't quite say she wouldn't regret losing. Even though the tendency he carried to this day to occasionally overindulge in self-pity drove her crazy, there were times when he made her laugh, too. And, while she'd protested once, years ago, about the effect his blue eyes had on her, when he laughed at something she said and looked her way, there was something inside her that almost melted. Almost.

Eager to get this over with and on her way, Lois said briskly, "You know, I've never been that good at goodbyes. Maybe we should just leave it at 'see you later' and save ourselves the strained silence."

"Yeah, maybe," Clark agreed. Then, as if steeling himself for an unpleasant task, he stepped forward and enveloped Lois in a quick hug. "See you later, Lois."

"See you, Smallville." Lois smiled at him, hopped in her car, and sped away. Only one quick glance in her rearview mirror, and she muttered, "Metropolis, here I come."


	3. March

"Clark, since you're new here at the Daily Planet, let me give you a friendly bit of advice. If you want to live to see another Smallville sunset…keep your hands off my copy," Lois said in an overly sweet tone that was completely at odds with the ferocity with which she snatched the paper out of his hands. Looking it over quickly to reassure herself that he hadn't marred it in any way, Lois indulged herself in satisfied smile. This was a great story. It would be even better without the shared byline, but she was sure she could get Perry to come to his senses before too long. This rampantly insane scheme of his could only go so far.

From the seat he'd taken at her desk, Clark glared at her in a way that was reminiscent of the way he used to look at her when she was living on his family farm, almost a decade ago. Instead of the acerbic remark he would have responded with in the past, however, he reminded her, "Don't you mean 'our' copy, Lois? We are supposed to be partners now."

"Oh, we are, Clark!" she reassured him in a condescending tone. "In the sense that I go out and get the story, and you," she paused at this, desperately searching her brain for an appropriate term to describe his role in their relationship. "You provide backup!" she finally supplied with satisfaction.

"Provide backup!" he responded indignantly. "Lois, I don't think…"

"Now, Clark," she cut in quickly with a patronizing pat on the arm. "You know I'm only looking out for your best interests. You're new to Metropolis, and you don't know how dangerous the city can be. You're not in Kansas anymore, Toto." Okay, that statement was probably more ridiculous than true. Smallville hadn't exactly been the most peaceful hamlet on the map during the time she lived there, and from the stories Chloe had shared since she'd left, things hadn't changed much.

Before Clark could argue the point by bringing up this glaring discrepancy, however, she leaned over him and grabbed her purse out of the bottom drawer, where she'd stashed it. "Anyway, we can discuss your role at the paper some time later. I'm heading home."

She turned on her heel and had almost made it to the elevator before Clark stopped her. "Lois, wait," he called as he jogged to catch up to her.

With a visible sigh, Lois turned to look at him. He stopped in front of her and pushed the glasses he now apparently needed further up the bridge of his nose. "Listen, Smallville," she began and smiled to herself when she saw his eyes narrow in response to the nickname she hadn't called him in years. "It's been a long week, and I need to go home and relax. Preferably in a hot bubble bath, reading a novel with a plot I'll forget ten minutes after I've put it down. I'm not above killing anyone who stands in the way of that. So is there something I can do for you?"

Giving her a searching look, he responded, "I just wanted to make sure that's all you're going to do. You're not going to break into a known gangster's private office. Or blatantly accuse some very powerful people of murder. Or do anything else that would cause someone, or a group of people, to want to kidnap, torture, maim, or kill you in any way. At least until tomorrow." It had been a very busy week.

Lois smirked. He was a fast learner. Still, he couldn't possibly know her well enough to tell for sure when she was lying, and while she had been totally honest in saying she was looking forward to the whole bath/book evening, she did have one tiny stop to make first. She just wanted to check up on a lead to a new story with a source down in Hobb's Bay, otherwise known as Suicide Slum. "I'm heading straight home. Scout's honor! Honestly, Clark, don't you trust me?" she asked, her innocent smile only a fraction too wide. Clark's reaction to this was a little hard to read, but she no longer knew him as well as she once had. Once upon a time, she would have pretty much known what he would say and do even before he did (another sign, in her opinion, of his boring predictability). Then again, a decade was more than time enough for two people to grow apart, particularly when their relationship was as unusual and undefined as the two of theirs had been.

"Sure I do, Lois," he finally responded, and Lois wanted to roll her eyes. He always had been too trusting, and he should know better by now.

"Okay, then! Good night, Clark," she said firmly, turned, and walked briskly towards the exit. She supposed she could have asked him to go with her. What she was planning tonight probably wouldn't be too dangerous, and she'd worked with her informer often enough that Clark wouldn't be in the way. Much. And he was supposed to be her partner. But just because Perry White, Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet and Lois's mentor, had told her she was supposed to work with Clark Kent didn't mean she had to take the news with good grace. She firmly reserved the right to define the phrase "work with" as loosely as she chose, and, as long as the name "Clark Kent" immediately followed that phrase, she'd define it very loosely indeed.

When Perry had come to her, not two weeks ago, and told her that she was going to have a partner, Lois had been irate and a little insulted. When she realized her new partner was going to be none other than the Clark Kent of her adolescent years, she'd felt so many conflicting emotions that she'd actually lost the ability to speak for a good minute.

Anger: How _dare_ Perry do this to her! She had worked hard for her position at the Daily Planet, and she didn't need to spend her time babysitting the Plaid Prince of Smallville High.

Guilt: When she'd left Smallville to go to Metropolis University, she'd promised Mrs. Kent that she would visit, and she had kept her word for a few years, at least. However, as she'd become more driven towards pursuing first her journalism degree and then her career, she'd had less and less time to do so. She loved her job at the Daily Planet and had pounded her share of pavement in her day to get here, but that had meant working long hours, getting herself into (and out of) the occasional dangerous situation, and being willing to pick up and fly halfway across the world with a moment's notice in the pursuit of a story. Visiting Smallville had gradually progressed from something she 'would do' past something she 'wanted to do' and all the way to something she 'someday might get around to doing, if she had time'.

Dismay: Though she still thought of Mrs. Kent as the mother she never had, she rarely spoke to the older woman on the phone any more and sent only the occasional letter. Over time, she had managed to convince herself that the attempts to stay connected with that part of her life were intrusive, like an irritating houseguest who refuses to acknowledge that it as past time to move on. She had come into the Kents' lives as an outsider, and, while she still cared for Mrs. Kent, she couldn't shake the knowledge that she wasn't now, nor had she ever been, a member of the family. She wasn't quite prepared to have Clark Kent in such proximity when she was still attempting to keep from imposing herself upon his family any longer.

Irritation: Why did it _have_ to be Clark Kent of all people?

Elation: Lois couldn't help the occasional fond remembrance of Smallville. The smell of her morning coffee even brought back the odd nostalgic memory of her time slinging coffee at the Talon, and Clark was, for better or worse (mostly worse) a tangible link to that time.

Exasperation: But, seriously. _Clark Kent?_

Disbelief: The man before her couldn't possibly be the same Clark she once knew. So much about him was so different from what she remembered. He had clearly left the plaid flannel at home, for one thing. He was also shorter than she'd thought. She'd known Clark Kent the football hero, short-lived ruler of Smallville High, and there was something about the way he used to carry himself back in high school that made him seem to tower over her. Although, come to think of it, that could have just been something he did to annoy her. She certainly wouldn't have put it past the boy he used to be. The man in front of her, however, walked as if he wanted nothing more than to fade into the background. As long as he stayed out of her way as she went after a story, she was more than willing to let him.

Lois scowled as she left the Daily Planet and remembered she'd have to take a taxi to the Slum. Her car was still in the shop, as she was having a minor disagreement with her mechanic over work that had been done. She didn't care how many times he promised that he had tuned her engine, she hadn't paid him six hundred dollars to have her car shift like a garbage truck, and she refused to pay him more until he addressed the initial problem. He, of course, refused to do so until she paid him another two hundred dollars.

Resigning herself to traveling by taxi, Lois hailed one and gave the driver her destination, stopping only briefly on the way to pick up a sandwich from a nearby deli. She paid this particular informant in food, not cash, and she was hoping to put him in a good enough mood this evening to get information from him on a rising number of "accidental" fires in Suicide Slum recently. Since the area was overflowing with the junkies, prostitutes, and homeless of Metropolis, the occasional accidental fire was not unheard of, and the police had yet to become terribly concerned over the matter as nobody had yet been hurt by the flames. Until a link between the fires became clear, they were unlikely to pursue the issue. Lois, however, suspected there was more to the situation and hoped Rabbit could help her.

In the Slum, she asked the driver drop her off in front of the abandoned warehouse where she had agreed to meet her informant. Before stepping out of the car, she took a moment to get a careful look at her surroundings and tucked a small container of pepper spray that she took from her purse inside her left sleeve. With one last look at her surroundings, Lois reassured herself that everything seemed as safe as a junkie hangout could be, steeled her shoulders, and cautiously stepped through the open doorway.

When she entered the interior of the building, Lois's nose wrinkled and she forced herself to take shallow breaths from her mouth to avoid retching. The overpowering stench of human waste and rotting refuse made her seriously rethink the turkey club on rye she'd had for dinner a couple hours before, but she refused to stoop to the indignity of getting sick. The warehouse was lit only by what little light leaked through the broken windows from the streetlamp outside, which Lois took as a blessing in disguise, as it prevented her from closely examining the objects covering the cement floor. Being careful to watch her footing, she tried to avoid the more suspicious looking areas and slowly made her way into the building.

"Rabbit? It's Lois!" she called softly, trying not to startle the man in question. He had earned the moniker both because he suffered from involuntary muscle spasms that caused him to twitch and because he had a tendency to go to ground when startled. He startled quite frequently, and Lois knew it was not beyond the realm of possibility that he'd forgotten, in his perpetual drugged-out haze, that he had spoken with her earlier that day. In as encouraging a manner as possible, she gently shook the bag with the sandwich in it and called, "I brought you food!" She paused, but her overture was met with total silence. "Rabbit? Be a good boy and come out now, okay?"

Suddenly, from the darkness on the far right side of the building, Lois heard something crash to the ground, followed by the rapid patter of footsteps. She crouched to make a smaller target of her outline while she ascertained the source of the potential threat, but she needn't have bothered. The footsteps were heading towards a side exit and out the building.

"Rabbit, stop!" she called as she straightened and tried to follow, but she was thwarted by the huge pieces of broken-down equipment and waste that had been abandoned with the factory itself long ago. "It's Lois! You said you'd meet me!" Her words had no effect, and the footsteps faded into the distance.

Cursing, Lois vented her frustration by kicking at the nearest pile of trash and then wished she hadn't when it squelched disturbingly in return. "Rabbit, the next time I get my hands on you, I'm going to have you skinned for this," she muttered darkly to herself. Her homicidal musings were interrupted abruptly, however, as flaming bottles were launched through the broken windows around the building and crashed on the floor below, where the fire fed hungrily on the available debris.

Lois knew she was in trouble. She had made her way to more or less the middle of the room, and the fires were spreading fast around her. She quickly dropped to the floor to avoid the smoke and scanned the room for the nearest exit, but there weren't many promising options. The door was out of the question, since a bottle had clearly been lobbed through the opening, so she was forced to consider the high windows along the wall in front of her, but the smoke filling the room made visibility low and the flames were racing to block off her escape route. Hoping to find one she might be able to reach, she kept low to the ground and made her way to the wall as quickly as she could manage.

Scanning the area, Lois was relieved to find a metal barrel nearby she could use as a footstool to reach the windows above her head if she could get it a little closer to the wall. The fires had spread throughout the room now and had almost reached her position. The thick smoke was choking her and the heat was searing into her skin, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. It was hard for her to resist the urge to panic clawing at her throat when she realized the barrel was heavier than she expected.

She forced herself to concentrate on her task, not the oppressive fear that was almost overwhelming, and pulled the barrel with all her weight until she thought it might have gotten close enough. There wasn't time to do anything about it, either way, as the flames were dangerously close now. It would have to do. Hopping up onto the lid, she prayed it would hold her weight for a moment while she stripped off her jacket and wrapped it around her hand as quickly as she could, using it to break the remaining shards of glass from the window frame. Unable to breathe, with the flames at her heels, she pulled herself up to the windowsill and dropped down to the ground on the other side, landing hard.

Lois felt her right ankle twist beneath her, and she fell to her knees with a gasp. She didn't have time to indulge the pain, however, so she jumped to her feet and ran as best she could to the street, trying to clear the perimeter of the building. Finally, after she reached relative safety, she stopped to catch her breath and call the fire department.

She had just finished her call when she heard a soft sound behind her. Turning quickly, the sudden move causing her ankle to throb in agony, she instinctively grabbed the pepper spray she had concealed and crouched in a defensive stance. Behind her, she found the most incredible sight she had ever seen.

Inexplicably, in the middle of Suicide Slum in the dead of night, she faced a man garbed in from head to toe in tight blue spandex. It was impossible to see his face clearly in the dim light, but a large red and yellow "S" was emblazoned on his chest, and a red cape flapped behind him in the slight breeze. Though she would have died of embarrassment to have been caught in public in such an outfit, he stood very confidently in front of her, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he looked down at her.

"Are you okay, miss?" he asked with concern, seemingly unaware of her amazement.

Trying to remember if smoke inhalation ever led to hallucinations, she tilted her head back to try to get a look at his face and demanded, "Where did you come from? And what's with the suit? I don't know where you heard that primary colors go well together, but you were seriously misinformed." He didn't answer her; he merely repeated his previous question, so she responded in a brusque tone, "I'm fine. But you still haven't answered me."

Though his features were still obscured, she could swear his shoulders sagged in relief for a moment, but it passed so quickly that she couldn't be sure she hadn't imagined it. In a terse voice, he said, "Good. Is there anyone else in the building?" She shook her head quickly, and he continued, "Stay here." Then he stepped around her and towards the warehouse.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" she demanded. He paused when she grabbed hold of his cape and turned to look at her. Okay, she had a cape in her hands, so he wasn't a hallucination, which meant he had to be either deranged or on a bad trip. She had to stop him; she didn't want his death on her conscience when he got fried to a crisp because he didn't know better than to stay away from a raging inferno. Knowing her ankle would make her pay for this abuse later, she hobbled around him to stand between him and the warehouse. "Listen, Sparky. I can understand why, wearing that outfit, you'd feel the need to display some male bravado, but that building is on fire. The fire department has already been notified and they're on their way. Unless that S on your chest stands for Suicidal, you'll stay where you are and let the professionals do their job. Understand?"

"It'll be okay, Miss…," he paused, giving her an expectant look.

"Lane. Lois Lane."

"Miss Lane, you're going to have to trust me. I can take care of the fire, but you need to stay here."

He turned towards the warehouse again, but once more, she grabbed onto him and stopped him. Hobbling in front of him again, she raised her hands, palms outward in a halting gesture. "What are you, insane?" She looked him over quickly again. "You know what? Scratch that. But you're really going to have to trust me when I say that fire is bad. Very bad. The kind of bad that makes pretty much everything else seem fun by comparison. Comprende? So please behave like a nice crazy person and stay here."

He sighed, and suddenly, she was speaking to empty air. Lois's head whipped around as she tried desperately to find the strange man she had just been talking to, but he seemed to have disappeared. She didn't know how he'd gotten past her so quickly, but she had a feeling she knew where he'd gone and she whispered, "Oh God oh God oh God," desperately as she hopped towards the building.

As she neared the blaze, however, she realized there was something odd about it. Though it was hard to see through the smoke, she could swear the wave of heat itself was lessening. She cautiously approached the doorway and gazed in open-mouthed wonder inside the building.

At first, she couldn't tell what was happening. As she stood there, however, she could see the fire was actually drawing in on itself, not expanding as it would normally do. In the middle of the room, the fire was forming a column of flame that then erupted through a hole in the roof and dissipated, clearing the area. It took only about a minute before it had been put out completely. As the rest of the smoke cleared, she could see the strange man in the blue suit standing where the column had formed, but he seemed miraculously unharmed and was looking around in satisfaction.

When he was finally certain that his work was done, he turned and seemed unsurprised to find her there, staring at him. It was a long moment before anyone moved, and Lois was trying desperately to come to terms with what she had just seen. It was impossible, but there was no other explanation for it: the man had walked into a raging inferno without any protection, put it out by…she had no idea what he'd done, and was entirely unscathed by the experience.

Lois had just stumbled across the story of the year.

"Who are you?" she asked in wonder as she hobbled towards him, but he strode forward to meet her before she'd gotten more than a few steps.

"You shouldn't be in here, Miss Lane. The fire's been put out, but it did some pretty serious structural damage. The building's unsafe." He looked her over. "You need to go to a doctor."

She contradicted him in a firm voice. "I'm fine. My ankle's not broken; it's just sprained. I'll put ice on it when I get home. And don't avoid my question."

The strange man gazed down at her foot for a moment and then agreed. "You're right; it's not broken, but you need to be careful with it for a few days." Lois couldn't explain it, but she had the feeling he wasn't saying her ankle was fine simply to agree with her. He knew, somehow.

Making a mental note to return to that issue, she reminded him, "You still haven't told me who you are."

He paused, and in the distance, she could hear the blare of sirens from the approaching fire truck. Finally, he spoke, "I'm a friend."

"Okay, you're a friend, but what's your name? Do you want to give me something to work with, here? Because my editor is not going to be happy if the lead to my story for tomorrow reads, 'He is able to walk through fire unscathed and calls himself only 'a friend'…'"

The sirens were getting louder, and he looked behind her to the street outside. "I should go. Explaining my presence might get…complicated."

She should probably go, too. She'd been harassing the P.D. down in the Slum about the fires, and a number of them would not take too kindly to find her at yet another scene. In fact, they'd insinuated the last time that she was in danger of making herself a suspect. But she wasn't quite ready to let this guy get away, yet. She still needed her story. And that was the only reason. Really. "It might get compli-? What are you, kidding? Of course it would! I was right here, and I don't understand what happened!"

"Are you okay getting home, Miss Lane?"

"I'll be fine. I can just call a ta-woah!" she yelped as the mysterious stranger leaned over swiftly and swept her into his arms. "Okay, Mister, you need to put me down right now. I've never been a fan of the He-Man type, and just because you can put a fire out with your bare hands doesn't get you the right to put them all over me!"

She tried to push him away, but her efforts produced no effect, which is when she got a curious floating feeling. While there was certainly something compelling about the man who had her in his arms, she didn't think she was able to attribute it entirely to his presence, so she looked down.

Somehow, the two of them were floating a good twenty feet off the ground and climbing. Choking back an undignified shriek (though, really, if there was ever a time to lose her composure, she was willing to bet that this would be it), Lois changed tactics, wrapped her arms around his neck, and held on tight instead. She'd never been afraid of heights before, but, then again, this was an unusual situation – she'd always been supported by an airplane or a parachute in the past, and she'd been fairly secure in the idea that they would work properly. Her brain was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that she had to put her trust completely in this stranger, believe that he wouldn't drop her. Her brain, in fact, was having a hard time coming to terms with the idea that a man could fly.

"Don't worry, Miss Lane. I've got you."

She leaned forward to mutter in his ear (also conveniently hiding her face in his neck). "If you drop me, I swear I will haunt you for the rest of your life."

"I believe it," she thought she heard him murmur in response as he pulled her a little bit closer to him.

Though he offered to take her home, she insisted he drop her off at the Daily Planet building so she could file her story. While she could tell he wanted to argue the point with her, he didn't. Somehow, he must have been able to tell that arguing with Lois Lane never did anybody any good. She was too stubborn to do anything but what she wanted to do, and even if he did take her home, she'd just hop in a taxi and go to the Planet on her own.

Reluctantly, he did what she asked and landed in front of the Planet, where photographer Jimmy Olsen and editor-in-chief Perry White were heading out for the day. Both watched in amazement as the man in blue descended to the ground and put Lois very carefully back on her feet. Lois didn't notice when Jimmy picked up his ever-present camera and began taking pictures; she was too busy trying to think of a way to stop her escort from flying away.

As he rose into the air and prepared to fly away, she called, "Wait! I'd like to interview you! Uh, please," she added as an afterthought.

The stranger turned to look down at her. After a moment, he smiled in a way that made her breath hitch in the back of her throat and said, "I'll be around." Then he flew away, leaving Lois behind to stare wistfully in the sky after him. She remained there long after he'd disappeared, but finally, she turned to find Clark standing slightly behind her.

Embarrassed that she had been so long lost in thought, she barked, "Clark! Help me back to my desk! I need to type up this story for the morning edition." She noticed him looking at her ankle in concern and forestalled his comment by saying, "Don't even think about it; you know I'm not going anywhere until Perry has this story. The minute I'm done, I'll go to the doctor. You can take me yourself, if it'll make you happy, but right now, I'm going to my desk!" At his skeptical look, she glared at him. "Either you're going to help me, or I'm going to hop up there on my own. Your choice." Clark sighed, but he stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her weight as she hobbled towards the elevator. Jimmy and Perry followed, discussing the stranger the whole time, but Lois was too lost in her thoughts to pay attention.

"Weren't you going to head straight home, Lois? I think those were your exact words."

"I was headed straight home! I just got detained," she explained, being less than completely honest.

"Lois, your apartment is nowhere near Suicide Slum," he reminded her. She looked at him in surprise, so he clarified, "You're covered in soot, and there was a report over the police scanner of a fire. It didn't take much to put the two together."

"Hm. Well, by 'I'm going straight home' I obviously meant 'after following up a lead first' of course."

"Oh, of course. How did I not realize?" he asked dryly, and Lois smirked when she saw him roll his eyes.

In the elevator, Lois moved away from Clark and rested against the railing to relieve pressure on her sore ankle. She hated that she had to get his help to get the short distance to her desk, but all the abuse she'd heaped upon her injury caused even the slightest pressure to be agonizingly painful. Relishing in the quiet moment, Lois laid her head back against the wall and sighed, lost in thought. It had definitely been a long, extremely odd evening, and she didn't know quite what to make of the man she'd discovered – or his incredible powers. Finally, Jimmy broke the silence by asking, "What do you think the S stands for?"

Absently, Lois muttered to herself in a soft, almost wistful voice, "Stunning. Spectacular. Sexy."

Clark's head whipped around so fast, she could almost hear a snap. He looked at her with wide eyes and asked, almost choking, "What?"

Although he was standing on the other side of the elevator and there was no way he could have heard what she said, Lois blushed. "Um. I said…um…Super…man. The S stands for Superman."

Clark grinned at her as the doors opened and he wrapped his arm around her waist again to help her to her desk. "You know, Lois, with the way you were looking at him tonight, I'd almost think you had a crush on this…Superman."

Lois scoffed. "Oh, grow up, Clark. The day I resort to a schoolgirl crush is the day you learn to fly."


	4. April

"Clark, you've been my partner and a good friend of mine for a while now, so don't get me wrong. You mean a lot to me. But there's two of us and only one piece of pie left, so I'm afraid we're left with only two options: you can put down the plate and back away slowly, or I can recite a very touching eulogy at your funeral." Normally, Lois would not get so territorial over a dessert, but the two of them happened to be visiting his family farm for the weekend and the pie in question was baked by Martha Kent herself. It was a brave man indeed who dared stand between Lois and Mrs. Kent's baked goods.

Clark paused, the fork poised halfway to his mouth. "That's a pretty serious threat, there, Lois. You sure you can back it up?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and grinning at her.

"Smallville, I was taught how to fight by guys in Special Forces; it's one of the perks of being General Lane's daughter. I'm sure taking you down won't be much of a problem," she retorted as she squared off against him from across the island in the middle of the kitchen.

"Even if that's true, Lois, you can't fight what you can't catch!" Clark challenged with a gleam in his eye.

"Oh, and catching you is supposed to be difficult?" she scoffed. "I think you should know, I run ten miles every morning." In all honesty it was more like eight. Or six. Most mornings. Okay, some mornings. But she _meant_ to run ten miles every morning, and she felt like that should count for something. "I know you used to be the star quarterback of the football team, but it's been …what? Ten years? I hate to tell you this, but you've been working a desk too long, Clarkie. If you look closely, I'm pretty sure you'll find a lot of that muscle turned to fat a long time ago." The fact that Lois was bluffing didn't bother her at all. True, she'd worked closely enough with Clark since they became partners to know that he was in pretty good shape, but just because she was aware of it didn't mean she was willing to stroke his ego by admitting as much.

"I think that sounds like a challenge, Miss Lane," he drawled and grinned anew at the glare she threw him. Then, very deliberately, he scooped a large chunk of pie onto his fork and popped it into his mouth. While he made exaggerated sounds of gustatory ecstasy, Lois shrieked in unholy rage and darted around the island. Clark almost choked on his pie through a snort of laughter as he took off into the living room, Lois fast on his heels.

"Clark Kent! You bring me back that pie this minute!" she yelled as she chased after him. It was probably for the best that the two of them were home alone at the moment, as Lois's pride might have taken a serious blow if anyone had seen him lead her on a merry chase throughout the first floor of the house, always managing to stay just inches in front of her.

He finally managed to get enough distance on her to take refuge behind the kitchen table, and Lois took the opportunity to catch her breath, as she was almost panting from her exertions. She'd always thought she was in good shape, since (aside from her occasional lapse in keeping to her running schedule) she kept to a fairly strict exercise regimen, but she was beginning to think she was going to have to step it up a notch. Somehow, beyond all reason, her adversary didn't even seem winded. Lois's eyes narrowed. Clearly, this meant war.

"You giving up?" he taunted her as they danced back and forth along the sides of the table. She kept her eyes trained closely on him, waiting for him to make his move towards the exit so she could cut him off at the pass.

"Are you kidding?" she scoffed. "I'm lulling you into a false sense of security. I'd hate to break your fragile ego by beating you too quickly."

"Well, that's very considerate of you, Lois. I didn't know you had it in you." She snorted in response, trying to hide the smile that was trembling at the corners of her mouth. She'd be enjoying this entirely too much if the matter wasn't so dire, but this was quickly turning into a matter of life or death. She could smell the cherries from where she was standing. "You know, we really don't have to fight over this. My mom would no doubt be willing to make another pie for you tonight if you ask her," he teased.

Lois rolled her eyes and let out a snort of laughter. "Clark, you've been working with me for a while now. In all that time, what could _possibly_ have convinced you that I'm even capable of such patience?"

"Well, patience is a virtue," he reprimanded her as he cut off another bite of pie.

"Not one of mine!" she snarled in return, her eyes following the path the fork took to his mouth. Her mouth was watering, and he was definitely asking for trouble!

"It's not too late to turn over a new leaf!" he reminded her in an encouraging tone, or in what would probably have been an encouraging tone if he hadn't spoken around a mouthful of pie, and the chase was on again. His laughter and her shrieks of outrage echoed as they ran through the kitchen, around the table in the dining room, and in circles around the living room couch. For a brief minute or two, the pursuit even continued outside.

Finally, just when she was beginning to think there was something inhuman about Clark's ability to remain one step ahead of her, the chase ended. Lois took advantage of an opening presented to her when Clark tripped and stumbled just as he was about to make a break up the stairs. Quick as a flash, she tackled him around the waist and held on tight.

"Ha!" she exclaimed with satisfaction as she tried to catch her breath. "Who's faster now?" she asked in a taunting voice as he turned to meet her eyes. Keeping a tight hold on him with one hand so he didn't make a break for it, she stood on her tiptoes and stretched the other as high as she could to try to get the plate that Clark deftly raised just out of her reach.

With a chuckle, Clark grinned and stretched his defending arm even higher above his head. "And who's taller?"

"That's okay. I fight dirty." With a judo move she'd found particularly helpful over the years, Lois tightened the hold she had on Clark's torso as she swept his feet from under him. She was gratified when her efforts caused him to fall backwards onto the stairs with a satisfying thump, but it was with chagrin that she discovered a serious miscalculation with her technique. At the last second, he wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her down with him.

Her shock at finding herself suddenly on Clark's lap as opposed to smirking down at him, coupled with the look of chagrin on his face, was too much for her to bear, and she couldn't contain her laughter any longer. Peals of it echoed throughout the house, the pie temporarily forgotten as she threw her head back in unrestrained glee and reveled in the moment. Lois never did anything halfway.

"I caught you, Mr. Kent!" she crooned in victory as her laughter subsided and she fought to regain her breath. "To the victor go the spoils!" Then, in a magnanimous tone, she teased, "Since we're such good friends, Clark, I won't make you grovel too much before I forgive you. Feel free to start at any time, and if you want to throw in a compliment or two to soften me up, I won't hold it against you."

"That's awfully big of you, Miss Lane," he said with a grin that belied his grave tone.

Lois was about to make another scathing remark when her eyes met his, and her mirth died suddenly in her throat. She'd just realized the position in which she had unwittingly placed herself, straddling Clark's lap on the stairs, her arms still wrapped around him, their faces very close together. He seemed to realize the implications of their position at about the same time. His eyes widened as he looked up at her, and he too stopped laughing. She gulped. All of a sudden, things had gotten a bit too quiet and entirely too serious. The lighthearted moment was gone, and there was a new level of tension in the air that she had absolutely no intention of exploring.

Lois's brain scrambled for a graceful way to extricate herself from this situation, but, while it was so preoccupied, she found that herself somehow leaning even closer to the man beneath her. It wasn't until she heard the sound of a throat clearing behind her that whatever moment she and Clark were sharing was effectively broken. Turning her upper body to face the intrusion, Lois found Mrs. Kent gazing with great interest upon the tableau they formed. The sound of heels on wood followed, and their audience was joined by the ethereal beauty that was the sweetheart of Smallville, Kansas, and ex-girlfriend to Clark Kent himself: Lana Lang.

Realizing the implications of the situation, Lois exclaimed, hearing Clark do likewise, "This isn't what it looks like!" Then, Lois lunged forward and grabbed the plate from the steps above the two of them before she scrambled to her feet and met both sets of surprised glances with a wide smile. She heard Clark start to rise to his feet behind her and thrust her hand behind her back quickly in an effort to help him up. As he was rising, she had to restrain the urge to take a moment to run her fingers through her hair and straighten her outfit. Though she was not the type to feel self-conscious about her appearance, she was painfully aware of how disheveled and sweaty she'd become in the past ten minutes. Under the circumstances, her appearance would imply a course of events that had not actually taken place, and she was eager to dispel that misconception. It also didn't help that Lana looked as radiant and flawless as ever.

"Hey, Mrs. Kent. Lana," she finally blurted, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "You must be really confused about all this, but there's a perfectly rational explanation, really." She cleared her throat and continued in as reasonable a tone as she could manage, "You see, Clark stole my pie and I had to retrieve it." To prove her point, she thrust Exhibit A: The Plate in front of the two staring women.

"Your pie?" Lana repeated in obvious confusion, staring at the object that Lois held victoriously in her hand. Lois followed her gaze and realized that two bites of crust were all that remained of a once-beautiful and delicious slice of cherry-filled heaven on earth.

"You ate it? All of it?" she hissed in indignation at the man behind her.

"It was delicious; I couldn't resist. And I did leave you the crust!" he whispered, a hint of laughter in his voice. In affront, Lois elbowed blindly behind her and was gratified to hear his grunt as she nudged him hard in the ribs.

"Well, that there is no pie is really not important. It was the principle of the thing, you see," she continued lamely, throwing a glare over her shoulder at the man behind her. In return, he had the audacity to look not even the least bit sheepish.

"I see," Martha cut in, sounding as if she really didn't but was trying very hard to pretend as if she did. "But Lois, honey, there's a whole pie waiting for you both in the oven. I knew you'd probably be hungry when you arrived. I left a note…"

Her attention completely diverted by this new information, Lois whirled on the man behind her and cried in an accusatory tone, "A note? What note?"

"Oh, you mean this?" Clark sounded entirely too satisfied with himself as he pulled a note out of his pocket. "'Clark and Lois, I had to run to the Talon for a couple hours. I'm not sure how long I'll be, but if I'm not back by the time you arrive, feel free to make yourselves at home. Mom. P.S. There's a cherry pie in the oven if the two of you are hungry.'" He smiled unrepentantly down at his irate partner as he shoved the slip of paper back in his pocket, completely unfazed by the murderous gleam in her eyes.

"How could you not tell me about that?" she growled up at him through clenched teeth.

"You didn't ask," he taunted her, cocking an eyebrow as he did so.

Lois's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe Smallville had managed to pull one over on her. In a low voice, she warned, "Oh, you're going to pay, mister. Mark my words. It'll pain me for a moment or two to see you reduced to tears, but I'm sure I can manage to overcome my despair to find some measure of satisfaction."

"Promises, promises," he murmured back with a grin.

Martha chose this moment to interrupt their exchange, no doubt in an attempt to forestall Lois chasing Clark around the house again, this time in earnest. Stepping forward to give each of them a quick hug, she explained, "It's good to see you two! Lana came into the Talon today for a visit, and I told her you two were going to be in town. She's eager to spend some time catching up with you both." As deftly as a commander negotiating her troops on a battlefield, Martha fussed over Lois until the younger woman's attention was deflected from her thoughts of revenge, then she said, "Well, I need to get dinner started. Why don't the three of you have a seat and take some time to catch up?"

"Mom, you know you don't have to do that. We can go out to eat toni-," Clark choked back the end of his sentence when Lois stomped hard on his foot in as surreptitious a way as she could manage.

"Are you nuts? What do you think you're doing?" she hissed. This time Clark was definitely going too far. First, he deprived her of pie, and now he was trying to deny her a home-cooked meal? She was going to have to have serious words with her partner at some point in the near future. Turning to her hostess she said in a bright tone as she tried to usher the two women towards the kitchen, "Don't mind him. Oxygen deprivation has gone to his head." Remembering their former positions and thinking of how her statement might be misconstrued, she rushed to explain, "All that running. We'd love to stay in tonight, Mrs. Kent! I'll help you cook, in fact!"

At her words, Clark jumped to intervene. "No!" he yelped as he lunged forward and wrapped his arm around Lois's waist to stop her from following the two ladies into the other room. "That's really not necessary, Lois. I'm sure my mom has it covered."

He released her when she turned to face him. "Are you trying to avoid spending time alone with Lana, or is your eagerness to keep me here a commentary of some sort on my cooking?" she muttered to him in a dark tone, keeping her voice low so neither Mrs. Kent nor Lana could overhear from the next room.

He pondered the question for a moment before answering, "It's a toss-up, really."

"Keep it up, Smallville, and you're going to be washing my car every day for a month!" she said in a threatening tone, but she couldn't help grinning as well. Lois was brilliant in many ways that did not extend to the kitchen, where her catastrophes were the stuff of legend. She looked towards the other room and gently pulled Clark aside in an attempt to avoid being overheard. Then she paused, took a deep breath, and asked before she could change her mind, "So, are you going to clear the air with Lana while you have the chance?"

All the humor left Clark's features so abruptly, it was almost like someone had flicked a switch inside him. His face became impassive, but the way he looked at her, Lois knew she was treading on dangerous ground. "Maybe you should leave it alone, Lois," he warned.

"I think we both know from experience that isn't going to happen," she retorted. They never really discussed this issue, but that never stopped her from trying. "Look, how many times have you told me that there are a lot of things you wish you'd said to her but never took the chance? You have a prime opportunity here, and you're telling me you're not going to take advantage of it?"

"Not everyone has to say what's on their mind twenty-four hours a day, whether it's appropriate or not, you know," he reminded her curtly as he ran a hand through his hair.

That stung a little, but Lois tried not to take the bait. He always went on the defensive when the subject of Lana arose, and Lois was sick of watching him do nothing about the issue. He needed to move on, and how many arguments was she going to have to drag him into before he admitted as much? "At least if there's something bothering me, I deal with it. I don't just sit back, wish things were different, and curse the world when nothing ever changes," she shot back.

Clark looked at her for a long moment, and she was sure the two of them were about to indulge in one of their famous disagreements. She knew this wasn't the right time or place; she should apologize, smile brightly for the women in the next room, and try to ignore Clark's inevitable moodiness after he finished spending time in Lana's presence. But sitting back and saying nothing was not something she had ever been able to convincingly do.

With a heavy sigh, Clark finally spoke. "Look, Lois, it's not what you…It's not that I want Lana back. I just wish…" His voice trailed off; he was clearly at a loss to explain just exactly it was that he wished. He looked away from her, glancing instead towards the other room, where Lana could be heard laughing at something Martha had said. After a moment, he continued, "Just leave it alone, okay? For right now, as a favor to me, can we not talk about this?"

Lois had to fight back the urge to groan, roll her eyes, throw things, hit her partner, or indulge in any number of other petty acts. She really hated this. She hated it every time he asked her not to pursue this topic, and she really hated it that she typically (if grudgingly) did as he asked because she hated to see the look in his eyes that he invariably got when talking about Lana and the past. It wasn't like taking the tactful route was something she ever enjoyed doing. It really didn't come easy to her, and it always made her feel annoyed with herself that she would choose to behave in a way that was against her nature.

But Clark was her friend, and he asked her to drop it, in the same way that he'd asked her to drop it when she'd asked him once what had been the cause of the breakup in the first place. During the time she'd been friends with Clark, he'd made the occasional off-handed remark that was tantalizing but ultimately uninformative, and there were many times that she'd been tempted to grill him until she ferreted out the truth. However, Lois had managed to refrain (upon his request), deciding that he would open up to her and discuss the issue if he wanted to do so, and accepting that she should leave it alone until that time came, if it ever did.

She was very, very close to breaking her resolve on the issue, but he was her friend, so what else could she do? At least for the moment. Hearing Mrs. Kent call the two of them from the other room, Lois resigned herself to the inevitable and said briskly, "Well, then, come on. I want to tell your mom every embarrassing thing you've done since we were here over Christmas." She linked her arm through Clark's as she spoke and dragged him with her into the kitchen, not leaving him time to protest.

In the kitchen, Lois, Clark, and Lana tried to assist their hostess in preparing that evening's meal, but after tripping over one or another of them for at least the twelfth time, Mrs. Kent shooed them out of the area and reassured them (as politely as possible, of course) that her job would be a lot easier if they were rather less present. She suggested that they go in the other room to talk, but everyone was reluctant to do so, as it would exclude her from the conversation. As a compromise, Lois, Clark, and Lana remained on the far side of the island so as to stay out of the busy woman's way, and, after a little prompting, Lois and Clark began to regale their audience with their latest achievements, as well as a few humorous near-catastrophes.

"So anyway," Lois said after a while, concluding her story, "That's how Clark and I ended up at the Planet at nine the next morning, still dressed in tux and gown but soaking wet and smelling like a sewer."

Clark chuckled at the memory. "You should have seen the look on Perry's face, Mom. He clearly didn't know whether to demand we stay to file our story or return home to shower first."

"Which did you do?" Lana asked through her giggles.

"We stayed of course!" Lois exclaimed as if the answer should have been obvious. "I have to say, it was the most peaceful day I've had at the Planet in a long time!" Lois grinned. It was a great story, though, like many great tales, it had seemed a lot less humorous at the time. In retrospect, it was one of the funnier things to have happened to her since she began work at the Planet, but the memory was still bittersweet for her. The incident was also the end of her relationship with Jack.

Lois had dated Jack for almost a year, and though he'd tried to accept that she loved her job and had the occasional problem juggling her personal and professional lives, he hadn't really understood that she wasn't in her line of work for the glory of seeing her name in print. She did it because she loved being an investigative reporter. It didn't matter what story she was breaking – whether she was uncovering corruption in the governor's office, health hazards at the Metropolis Nuclear Plant, or the sale of substandard beef to the city's schools. What was important was that there was a story out there, and she hadn't given up until she got it.

Sadly, the only thing that he was able to see was that she was willing to forgo an evening of dinner and dancing with him in favor of spending an evening exploring the charming facilities at Metropolis Municipal Waste. She tried to explain, but it had been the last in a long list of times she'd disappointed him or let him down. He told her he cared about her and wanted to be with her, but only if she promised to try to become less involved with work and put their relationship first. She couldn't do that, and she wasn't about to beg him to stay. When he'd walked out the door, she'd let him.

At the memory, Lois sighed, feeling a twinge of regret. She wasn't sorry that she'd chosen her career; the Daily Planet was almost like a second home for her, and she loved being a reporter. But she had liked Jack a lot. She'd thought there was really something between them, and she did miss having him around. Then again, she shouldn't be surprised that it ended badly; her luck with the opposite sex hadn't exactly been overwhelming in the past ten years or so.

Lost in thought, Lois almost didn't register Clark grabbing her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. She turned to look at him, only to find him staring with great interest into the bottom of his coffee cup. She smiled in appreciation of the gesture, even though she knew he hadn't liked Jack very much while she was dating him and hadn't been very good at pretending that he was sorry the two of them had broken up. Though he'd offered her comfort immediately after the event, she'd been too proud to take it, and once Lois reassured him that she wasn't overcome in a paroxysm of grief over the split, he'd pretty much given up the pretense of being sorry to see Jack go. But, then again, if he'd had a habit of lobbing a grenade in the middle of her love life when they lived in Smallville together as teenagers, it had become almost something of an avocation for him since they became partners. Still, she appreciated that knew what she was thinking about and was trying to make her feel better, even though it also disturbed her a bit that he'd come to know her so well.

Lois shifted uncomfortably and released Clark's hand. In an effort to get her mind off its current musings, she said, "But, if you guys want to hear a really funny story, Clark should tell you about the time that he got us locked in the back of a semi on its way to Utah!"

Clark groaned at the memory, but Lois had accomplished her objective and was able to enjoy the story along with everyone else. She noticed that Clark was as careful as she to edit the stories she shared so that some of the most terrifying bits seemed a bit less harrowing, and she was grateful that he had the foresight to do so. She had a feeling that if her hostess had any idea of the kinds of trouble Lois landed him in on a fairly regular basis, Mrs. Kent would call Perry White immediately and demand Clark be partnered with somebody who knew how to duck every once in a while.

Later, as they sat down to dinner, Lana shared stories of the adventures she had found herself in since leaving Kansas. For a while, Lois was amused, and since she and Lana had been friends of a sort, once upon a time, she was glad the other woman had been doing so well. But she also couldn't help periodically glancing at the man seated next to her out of the corner of her eye as he watched his ex-girlfriend discuss the last few years of her life. If he had any reaction to hearing about Lana's relationship with her current boyfriend, Lois couldn't tell by looking at his face. She didn't trust his silence, however; she knew better than anyone that, with Clark, there was generally more going on under than surface.

Finally, the conversation delved into the topic that Lois had been dreading all evening: "Remember when". Lois hated talking about the past; it was over and done with, ancient history, so why dwell on it? Besides, there was very little she could contribute to this particular conversation. It wasn't just any Remember When marathon; they were taking a walk down Memory Lang, reliving all the happy memories of the on-again-off-again (really more off than on) Lana-and-Clark relationship. Both Clark and Lana tried to get her involved in the conversation, but the truth was that she hadn't been around for much of the time they had known each other. If two was company and three a crowd, what did that make her as the fourth person to the party, other than odd man out?

Pondering the question, Lois began fiddling with her coffee mug, trying very hard to hide how much she fervently wished she were doing anything else right now as Lana asked in a wistful tone, "Remember when you made me a drive-in for my birthday?" By the warmth in his gaze and the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth at these words, Lois was willing to bet that he did. Clearly trying not to exclude Lois from the conversation, Lana explained how Clark had shown Looney Tunes cartoons on the side of his barn as a birthday gift to her after she'd told him about her favorite memory of her parents. "It was very sweet of him, really," Lana concluded as she graced Clark with yet another dazzling smile, which Clark returned, and Lois looked balefully at a fork on the table in front of her. She wondered if stabbing Clark in the leg with it would be enough of a distraction for him to stop being such a sucker.

Deciding that Mrs. Kent would probably not appreciate the gesture, even it if was under the best of intentions, Lois concurred, "Yup. Clark's a sweet guy," but she had the feeling her voice was a little too caustic for the sentiment to come across convincingly. She couldn't help her cynicism; she was too busy trying to withhold the urge to say something like, 'I remember the time you made Clark feel like less of a person because he didn't live up to this perfect fantasy you had in your head. Oh, do I need to be more specific?'

Realizing that she was about to get herself into trouble by letting her mouth run away from her brain, Lois decided it would be prudent to remove the possibility by taking a huge gulp of coffee. Unfortunately, she must have finished off her cup at some point, and Clark must have refilled it for her as the coffee she drank was almost hot enough to scald the inside of her mouth. She squeaked in surprise and tried hard not to spit the hot liquid across the table, more than likely in Lana's direction.

Waving away Clark's concern, Lois swallowed quickly, her eyes watering. Okay, so she knew she was being unfair. Whatever had happened between her partner and his ex-girlfriend was unlikely to be entirely Lana's fault. It was worth noting that it wasn't impossible that this was the case. Just unlikely. Knowing this, Lois figured her sudden hostility had to be, in some demented way, due to the loyalty and closeness she shared with her partner. Surely that could be the only reason why she'd be eyeing what few uneaten biscuits remained in the basket on the table in order to evaluate them for their effectiveness as projectile weapons. Sadly, she found them inadequate for the task, which was too bad, really. She'd been entertaining a lovely fantasy of using one to nail Lana right between the eyes.

Lois had just decided to give in to temptation and reached for a biscuit when she heard Lana say regretfully, "Well, it's getting late. I should probably get going."

"Lana, honey, you can stay the night if you want," Martha offered, but Lana gracefully declined. That was probably a good thing, as Lois knew from personal experience that the Kent household was short on guest rooms, and she'd already laid claim to Clark's bed. Alone. Obviously.

Lois felt Clark grab the hand she had stretched towards the potential missiles in order to pull her to her feet, and he left his hand in hers as they walked together to the door to see Lana off. On the porch, everyone exchanged hugs and farewells, and there Lois and Clark remained, lost in their thoughts, staring off into the distance long after Lana's car had disappeared down the road. After a while, however, Lois began feeling the cold of the early spring evening, and she shivered, releasing Clark's hand in order to cross her arms over her chest to try to stay warm. The sudden lack of contact seemed to shake him out of his musings because he turned to her and noticed her discomfort. "We should go inside," he said in a concerned voice as he escorted her back into the house.

Back in the kitchen, Clark and Lois volunteered to do the dinner dishes and clean up the kitchen before bed since Mrs. Kent had done the cooking and admitted to having some paperwork she wanted to go over before bed. Martha protested, but when the two of them stood firm, she relented, wished them good night, and went upstairs, leaving them to their chores.

"Okay, Smallville, you wash; I'll dry," Lois stated as she slung a dishrag over her shoulder and leaned against the counter, waiting for Clark to get down to business. They worked side by side in companionable silence for a while, and Lois waited as patiently as she was able for Clark to open up and talk about what was bothering him. She knew pushing him on the subject would only cause him to clam up, but it was hard to let him bring up the topic in his own time. Lois couldn't help but smile when she thought about how little she would have once thought such a thing would concern her.

Clearly lost in his own thoughts, Clark didn't say much as he scrubbed dishes and gave them to Lois to dry. Lois suspected he was thinking about the raven-haired woman that just left, and so she wasn't sure whether to be relieved or irritated by his silence. Finally, when she'd just about decided to go with 'irritated', he handed her a platter to dry and asked, "Lois, do you believe in fate?"

"Do you mean in relationships or in general?"

"Whichever," he replied with a shrug, not looking at her.

She wanted to give an automatic negative response, but it was an honest question deserving of an honest answer so she thought about it for a few moments before saying, "No, I don't really. At least, I hope there isn't such a thing."

At this, he did turn towards her, surprised by her answer. "Really? You don't think that some of the things that happen in life happen because they're meant to?"

Lois nodded. "Really. I suppose there's something very tempting in thinking that our destiny is out of our control; our future is written in the stars, or wherever one would look for that sort of thing. But I'd hate to think that the choices we make in life don't really matter. If our lives are going to end up at some predetermined spot, no matter what we do along the way, what's the fun in living?" Clark grew quiet again, clearly thinking over what she had said, and she joined him in contemplation. Finally, however, she nudged him softly and said, "But, you know, Clark, if there is such a thing as destiny, I don't think yours is what you think it is." She waited until he looked at her expectantly before continuing. "I don't think you're destined to be alone."

"What makes you think I worry about that?" he asked.

"Please, Clark. You've worried about almost nothing else since the day we met," she scoffed.

He rolled his eyes at her words. "I don't know where you got this opinion of me…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Observation. But back to what I was saying," she said emphatically as she placed the last dish aside and hung her towel on the rack, "I don't know that there is one special person out there for each of us, but I do know that you're going to meet someone some day who appreciates you for who you are." She cleared her throat, embarrassed by her admission. "Anyway, that's what I think. For what it's worth."

A long silence stretched between them at her words, but this one war far less comfortable. Finally, Clark said softly, "Thank you, Lois." Though he turned towards her, it was Lois's turn to avoid his gaze, and she quickly turned away to needlessly straighten the towel she had just replaced.

"Don't mention it, Clark. Really. I mean it." She smiled over her shoulder at him, straightened the dishrag a little bit more, stretched, and said abruptly, "Well, it's time for me to go to bed. 'Night, Clark." Not waiting for him to respond, she turned and left the room.

There was something about Clark Kent, she mused on the way upstairs. He could be downright infuriating one minute, irritating her until she wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled. Then he'd turn around and do something so thoughtful, she was stunned that there were still people like him out there in the world. Sometimes he was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, and caught up in a conundrum. Other times, she felt like she knew him better than she knew herself.

The memory of the morning's near miss, pushed to the back of her mind all evening, lunged once again to the surface as she changed her clothes and prepared for bed. Try though she might to convince herself that nothing had happened, had almost been about to happen, or had ever had a possibility of happening in any universe, parallel or otherwise, Lois had a very hard time lying to herself. Strange though the idea seemed, she could swear that she and Clark had been perilously close to kissing before they were interrupted, and she wondered what she would have done if Mrs. Kent had not mercifully chosen that moment to return home.

Lois shook her head emphatically and scowled. That was a dangerous path for her thoughts to travel down, even as a hypothetical and completely implausible scenario. "Don't even go there, Lois," she told herself sternly as she climbed into bed. "Clark is your friend and your partner. And that's all he's ever going to be."


	5. May

"Face it, Lane. You're in over your head this time," Lois said to herself with a sigh as she stepped back and glared balefully at her day's work. A few days before, she had gazed around at the walls of her kitchen and decided yellow would be a more cheerful color than white to stare at every morning over a bowl of cereal. To that end, she bought a gallon of paint and some necessary supplies and waited in eager anticipation for Saturday to come around so she would have time to tackle her project.

On the much-anticipated morning, it only took her about three hours to realize that painting was not nearly as enjoyable as she'd thought it was going to be. She had barely a wall and a half done, and she was almost ready to throw in the towel. Paint had dripped on every conceivable surface (thankfully, she'd had the foresight to buy drop cloths to protect her kitchen from paint splatters. Sadly, her person was under no such protection, and it showed), and her back and shoulders were sore from the strenuous work. Just when she was wondering if she could get away with flinging a gallon of paint at the wall and calling it "modern art", there was a knock at the door. Grateful for the distraction, she ran to answer it.

With a wide smile, Lois threw open the door to find her partner on the other side. She didn't know how he always managed to show up just when she needed him most, but she wasn't complaining. "Clark! I'm so glad it's you!" she exclaimed as she grabbed his hand and literally yanked him into her apartment. He gave her a bemused look as she dragged him across her living room and into her kitchen, where she gestured dramatically at the walls. "Ta daaa! Well, what do you think?"

He looked over her work, then nodded towards the halfway-finished wall. "You missed a spot."

She glared at him as she brushed a rogue wisp of hair off her forehead, then scowled when she realized she probably left paint behind in its place. "Okay, Smallville, just for that, you get to help! Now, don't just stand there gawking. Grab a brush! The walls won't paint themselves, you know."

Her companion looked over at her and rolled his eyes before saying, "You know, Lois, I'm not exactly dressed…"

Unwilling to let her co-opted volunteer out of her clutches, Lois gestured impatiently towards the hallway to her bedroom. "Your clothes are in the closet. Don't worry; I'll wait for you!" she assured him.

Since they had begun working together, Lois and Clark had gotten in the habit of leaving a change of clothes or two at the other person's apartment. While this had originally been intended for emergency situations, saving time when they had gotten themselves into a messy situation (to be honest, Clark would say that Lois had been the instigator most of the time; Lois flatly denied this charge) and didn't both have time to run home to change before heading off to work at the Planet, it had progressed to something more. Now, they each had enough clothes at the other's apartment to be covered in any situation, from rushing off to an interview at work to lounging around the apartment to watch television in comfort. They'd never discussed their little arrangement, or the implications of it; it was another of those little things that had simply happened over time.

With a long-suffering sigh and in a halfway teasing tone, Clark mumbled something under his breath about a certain high maintenance partner of his. As usual, Lois ignored him, and she smirked as she turned back to her work on the wall, waiting for him to return. For all of his complaining, she knew that if he really minded helping her, he would have said so. And while Lois would sooner chew broken glass than pass up an opportunity to tease him, she appreciated his help and companionship.

Working together, the two of them managed to complete the project much sooner than Lois had anticipated, although they goofed off at least half the time and got almost as much paint on each other as they did on the walls. When Lois got paint on her hands, she'd wipe them on the old t-shirt Clark was wearing. When he wanted to check if he had too much paint on his roller, he'd shake it briskly in it her direction. In fact, joking around with Clark kept her entertained enough that she didn't much notice the passage of time. Finally, when the only sections of the wall that had not yet been painted were the areas above the cabinets, Lois jumped on the counter to finish the job. It didn't come as any great surprise when Clark moved to stand below her.

"Look, Lois, maybe you should let me get that," he offered as he eyed her precarious perch.

"Nonsense, Clark. You don't like heights, and they don't bother me," she retorted without looking his way as she stood on her tiptoes and carefully moved her roller along the wall.

"I actually don't mind them much anymore," he contradicted her, still obviously uncomfortable with her position.

She snorted as she moved down a few feet. "Uh huh. Look, Smallville. What do you think is going to happen? I've flown with Superman before. I think I can handle standing five feet off the floor."

"Right, but isn't Superman doing most of the work when the two of you fly together? Now it's just you and gravity, and I've seen you lose that battle before."

Lois rolled her eyes, even though her companion couldn't see the gesture, and said, "And if Superman were here, I'd ask for his help. Since he's not, I think I'll manage. Besides, I'm almost finished." With a final swipe of her roller, she tilted her head to the side to look for thin spots, then cried, "Done!" Triumphantly, she passed her roller down to Clark, who laid it aside before grabbing her around her waist and helping her to the floor. When he had put her back on the ground, Lois stretched to remove some of the kinks from her back and gazed proudly at the result of their efforts. Absently, almost as an afterthought, she asked as she did so, "By the way, what brought you here today? I doubt you came over to help me paint my kitchen." When he didn't answer, however, she turned to look expectantly at her companion.

Lois's eyebrows raised in response to the long, searching look her partner was giving her. For a moment, she thought she might have to poke him with a sharp object to break him out of his train of thought. "Earth to Clark! Come in, Clark!" she called, waving her hand in front of his face.

With a small shake of his head, he finally spoke. "Oh, it was nothing, really. We can talk about it later." With an obvious glance at his watch, he continued, "I really have to go. I have an…appointment this afternoon, and I really don't want to be late."

"Oh. Okay," she responded slowly. That was definitely unusual. Well, not the sudden inexplicable disappearing act he was about to pull (that, she had come to realize, was just part and parcel to the whole Clark Kent experience), or even the slightly unbelievable excuse for him to do so. There was just something strange about his behavior – and, since he was Clark Kent, King of All Things Odd, that was saying a lot.

Now he definitely looked uncomfortable. "Everything's fine, Lois," he lied. Clark had always been a terrible liar.

With a groan, Lois said quickly, "Oh, God, you're not in some kind of trouble, are you? You know, if you are, you really should talk about it. I don't know that there's anything I can do, but we are partners, after all, and…"

"Lois, I'm not in any trouble," he cut in. He paused for a moment; then, stammering a only a little, he admitted, "A-Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to go to dinner with me tonight."

Still fixing her partner with a wary look, Lois repeated, "Dinner?" as if the word were alien to her. "Is that all?" Clearly still skeptical, she shook her head slightly, chuckled, and shrugged. "Sure, I'll go to dinner with you Clark, but you're buying." She looked down at her paint-spattered clothes and wrinkled her nose. "And maybe tomorrow night would be better, if you don't mind. It might take me at least that long to get decent. I'm pretty sure I'll need a chisel to get some of this off." She grinned at him, but he still seemed tense, so she couldn't help but think he wasn't being entirely truthful. In a suspicious tone, Lois demanded, "Is that really all? Because that's nothing to get all worked up about, Clark. It's not like we don't eat dinner together all the time."

Shifting his weight uncomfortably, Clark explained, "Well, actually, Lois, I meant it as a date."

He definitely had her complete attention now. Her brow furrowed, Lois threw Clark an incredulous look. "Don't tell me you're trying to set me up on one of those awful blind dates that one's friends always think will be a wonderful idea but turns out to be a nightmare? I really thought you were above that sort of thing! And, really, as much fun as it sounds to waste an entire evening listening to some idiot trying to impress me with boring stories about how he…"

Before she could expound further, however, Clark sighed in exasperation and cut her off. "I meant with me. Lois, would you like to go on a date with me? To dinner?"

Well, that certainly took her by surprise. In fact, she needed a few moments to gather her thoughts and process that information, and, in the meantime, she was pretty sure she looked foolish with her mouth hanging open and all. "A date? You mean, like an actual date? With you?" She had to ask, just for the sake of clarity.

"That is the general idea behind the question, 'Would you like to go to dinner on a date with me'."

"Well, pardon me Smallville, but you never got the question out quite that succinctly," she griped, wondering what she should do now.

"If I could get a word in edgewise, maybe I would have!" he retorted, sounding more like the Clark she knew. "Anyway, you still haven't answered my question. Will you go out with me?"

"Oh. No," Lois responded. At his disappointed look, she rushed to finish. "At least not tonight. I wasn't kidding about needing a chisel to clean up, and yellow really isn't my color. Tomorrow night?"

With his usual adorable wide grin, Clark confirmed, "Tomorrow night it is, then."

As he left, Lois groaned and tossed her paintbrush into the sink. She'd clean up later. Right now, she needed to figure out when she had begun to find Clark's smile so damn adorable.

The next evening, Lois couldn't help but marvel at the amount of thought she'd put into their date. She would admit this to no one, of course. All day, questions about the wisdom (or lack thereof) of her accepting the date ran through her head. Getting dressed alone took her well over an hour, as she had a hard time deciding what to wear – a choice made even more difficult since she didn't know what kind of dinner Clark had in mind. She'd finally decided on a plain wine-colored dress that had been lurking in the back of her closet waiting for just the right occasion, but that decision had not come without quite a few second thoughts.

And in the end, the culmination of her day-long anxiety attack was that she spent a good amount of time on her date wondering if she'd ever had such a torturous evening in her life. It wasn't that Clark was bad company; she just couldn't think of anything to talk about. Finding an appropriate and engaging conversational gambit during dinner was a bit like sucking a sandwich through a straw. The problem was, none of the usual first date topics were appropriate for discussion. She already knew about his family and where he'd grown up; she knew what he'd wanted to be when he was little and many of the ways he'd gotten himself into trouble as a kid. She even knew what kind of underwear he wore, for crying out loud!

Lois firmly directed her thoughts away from anything having to do with Clark's underwear.

At the same time, she couldn't bring herself to talk with him as she normally would. Painfully aware that tonight he was something more than just her colleague and friend, Lois knew it would be inappropriate for her to tease him the way she normally would. Or, at least she knew he could be something more. Maybe. The more Lois pondered this, the more uncomfortable she became with the whole evening. As her discomfort grew, so did her tendency to babble – which, of course, Clark recognized as her defense mechanism in such situations, and her anxiety was clearly being noticed.

Worried that Clark would misconstrue her nervousness as regret over accepting the dinner invitation (and uncertain if she actually should be regretting it in fact), Lois took a big bite of food to forestall conversation. Whatever else happened tonight, she was going to have to get her bearings and relax. If she asked him one more polite question, he was likely to demand she see a doctor. Taking a moment to regroup, Lois eavesdropped on the tables around her in the hopes that, maybe there, she would find a clue for an appropriate topic to discuss.

None of the surrounding conversations caught her attention until she heard the man at a nearby table croon, "Isa my beebee gonna get some dessert? My sweet beebee. I yuv you." While Lois had to restrain the urge to retch, the woman across from him looked, incredibly, quite smitten by this inane babbling, and Lois almost choked on her wine. She could hardly believe her ears. Did anyone actually speak that way to another person over the age of two?

Would Clark expect her to talk that way to him?

Horrified, Lois whirled towards her date, leaned forward, and hissed at him, "Are you expecting me to talk baby talk to you?"

With a look of utmost confusion, Clark responded, "What?"

"You know, am I expected to coo over you or come up with cutesy nicknames for you? Because I'm going to tell you now, it's not going to happen."

If it were possible, Clark's confused look only intensified. "Lois, what are you talking about?"

"Nicknames. Endearments. You know, like…like…Muffin. You don't want me to call you Muffin, do you?" She demanded, still in an undertone. It was one thing if he found a nickname annoying; it would be another thing entirely if he found it endearing.

Clark's expression now bordered on terrified. "I'd rather you didn't, actually."

"How about Cupcake?" she suggested, assessing her date's reaction through narrowed eyes.

"Cupcake?" he parroted in disbelief.

"Pumpkin?" she asked in a demanding tone, trying to force back a smile.

"Lois, are you feeling okay?" he asked in concern, but his date ignored him.

"Lambchop?" Lois offered, and she was no longer to contain her amusement. While she teased him, her tension ebbed as she remembered why she enjoyed seeing Clark every day and that part of the appeal of their relationship was how easy it was to talk with him. The more horrified he grew in response to her obnoxious nicknames, the more Lois relaxed. Things didn't have to be so terribly different just because there might be more between them than just friendship. She certainly didn't have to try to be something she wasn't, and that meant she didn't have to refrain from teasing him all evening. The look in his eyes at the moment was definitely the same one he frequently gave her when they were looking for a lead on a story and she said the words, 'I have an idea…'

"Do you think we can stay away entirely from any nicknames that have to do with food?" he asked desperately, clearly trying to determine why she'd started throwing saccharine endearments at him from out of the blue.

"Okay, but I refuse to call you Pookie," she declared, her tone brooking no debate, as she sat back and took a bite of food with a self-satisfied smile.

"You have no idea how much that tears me up inside," Clark retorted, but now he too was looking amused, and they shared a smile across the table.

The tension broken, the rest of the dinner passed smoothly, and, for a while, Lois managed to put the question of what might happen next between them out of her mind. But then she stood to leave the restaurant, and he went to help her with her coat – something he had done many times before. This time, however, when, in the process of doing so, his fingers lightly brushed the back of her neck, Lois drew in a sharp breath. She turned her head to look up at Clark and saw him studying her intently, and the butterflies in her stomach launched into hyperdrive.

"Thanks," she said with an awkward smile as she found herself suddenly wondering what it would be like to kiss Clark Kent. With an effort, she brushed the question aside. She was definitely not ready to tackle that particular thought.

Heedless of her private thoughts, he responded graciously, "You're welcome," as he escorted her outside. However, instead of calling a cab, like she would expect, he gestured for her to walk alongside him down the street. She did so, wondering where they were headed.

It didn't take her long until she couldn't bear the anticipation any longer, and she asked, "So, where are we going?"

"You'll see. It's a surprise," he responded enigmatically.

Lois frowned. "I'm not good with surprises, Clark," she reminded him. She always had to know what was going on; it was one of the things that made her a good reporter. Consequentially, however, while she was excellent at preparing surprise parties for her friends, she was not fond of having them thrown on her behalf.

Glancing over at her, her date deadpanned, "Really? I never noticed."

"Suit yourself, Mr. Kent. But just remember, payback is sweet."

"I'll take my chances," he replied confidently, and Lois chuckled in response. Though she was still dying to know where they were going, she decided to play along. For now.

As they walked, Lois instinctively stepped close to her companion as the cool evening air caused her to shiver, and she unconsciously took his hand in hers. When she realized what she'd done, she glanced at Clark out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't seem inclined to remark on the gesture, so she left her hand where it was.

"We're almost there," he said, breaking her out of her thoughts. Indeed, not five minutes later, they turned a corner and he gestured to the arched gateway in front of them. "Here we are! Metropolis's Botanical Gardens! Have you ever been here before?"

"No," she responded honestly. "But I've always wanted to come." The Gardens lay in the heart of the city. The land it occupied had been donated to Metropolis University in order to provide a hands-on research facility for students in the botany department, and the doors had only recently been opened to the public in the hopes of bringing in enough revenue to expand the grounds. As it was, it was one of the largest botanical gardens in the country, spanning over 200 acres of land.

As Clark escorted her through the wrought-iron gates, he pulled a pair of tickets out of his pocket and gave them to the docent standing nearby before escorting Lois into the heart of the Gardens. They walked in silence, stopping occasionally to admire a particularly exotic plant, and she closed her eyes, letting the myriad scents envelop her.

Finally, the two of them paused under a tree in the middle of the gardens, and she took the opportunity to look around her and take it all in. After a few moments, she turned her attention back on her date, who was standing before her, and she felt a small smile touch her lips. "Thank you for this evening, Clark. It was…perfect, actually," she said softly.

"It was my pleasure, Lois," he murmured in response, and the look in his eyes as he gazed down at her made her catch her breath. Her eyes widened, and she became acutely aware that her heart had begun to race. The question she'd been avoiding all evening came suddenly to the forefront of her mind. Would she kiss Clark Kent tonight? As she pondered that question, he leaned towards her, hesitated, and then leaned down a bit more.

What was she, an idiot? Of course she was going to kiss him.

Their first kiss was not the stuff sonnets are made of. The Earth didn't tilt on its axis; fireworks didn't explode overhead. Actually, in the list of Lois Lane's best efforts at kissing, it would rank near the bottom. In fact, she didn't so much kiss him as lunge at him.

As the awkward kiss ended, she stepped back and looked away in embarrassment while she tried to think of a sarcastic remark to deflect the moment. She felt like she should apologize – if not for her performance, then at least for almost doing him an injury, as had certainly been a possibility with her sudden rush forward. She wouldn't blame him if he bolted for the nearest exit.

Instead, she felt him move even closer to her, and, though she didn't intend to, she couldn't help but turn her attention back to him when he gently brushed a stray lock of hair off her cheek. "Relax, Lois," he said in a tone only slightly above a whisper, "I'm not going anywhere." She tilted her head back in order to look him in the eyes once more, and, suddenly, her lips were brushing his in a tender kiss.

Like so many aspects of their relationship, Lois's first kiss with Clark was better the second time around. Gradually, as they exchanged a series of soft, almost tentative exploratory kisses, she relaxed. Her hands, which had been hovering uncertainly at his sides, came to rest on his waist. As the embrace continued, her hands traveled slowly across his stomach and up his chest, and she felt his arms wrap around her waist as he pulled her tighter against him.

Then the mood shifted and intensified. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held tightly to him as their kisses deepened to the point she thought she might drown in them. She dimly registered that his hands had traveled to her hips, which he squeezed tightly before stepping away from her and breaking the embrace.

After a moment, Clark explained in a slightly strangled voice, "We should go. The Gardens will be closing soon." Lois nodded mutely, uncertain of her ability to speak. The intensity of their kisses had taken her by surprise, and she was going to need a bit of time to catch her breath and process what had happened between the two of them.

They were silent as the left the Gardens, but a thousand worries and doubts caught up with her as they walked. It wasn't until they were standing on the curb and he was trying to hail a cab that she blurted out, "You know, maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"What? Take a taxi?" he asked as he turned to look at her with raised eyebrows.

Rolling her eyes, she continued. "Very funny, but I'm actually being serious. I meant this." She gestured at the two of them to imply their new situation. "Seriously, think about it. If something goes wrong, we have so much to lose! You're my best friend. I care about you more than just about anybody. I don't think I could stand to lose you if we…if something happened," she finished lamely. When he didn't seem inclined to comment, she demanded, "I mean, why did you ask me out on a date, anyway?"

At that moment, she would have gladly given her journalism degree and every penny in her savings account to have the ground open up and swallow her whole. The question had been lurking in the back of her mind since he'd asked her out, but she'd never in a million years thought she'd be stupid enough to voice it. This was bound to be embarrassing.

Clark looked away from her for a long moment, but just when Lois hoped by some fluke that he'd been struck by temporary deafness and had not actually heard her question, he swallowed heavily, met her gaze once more, and spoke softly, "Because I don't want to be just friends with you. I've wanted to ask you out for a long time, but it's never been the right moment, and I finally got tired of waiting for one." He looked like he wanted to step closer to her but didn't dare in case she bolted, which she didn't think she could do if a herd of elephants came tromping down the street; she was pretty sure no force on Earth could move her from this spot. After a moment, he continued, "I know we're risking a lot, but I also know that when I walk into the Planet in the morning and see you, that's the best part of my day."

She would love to have come up with a clever response to that, but his words had taken her by surprise. In all honesty, she had never once given much thought to what it would be like to date Clark Kent. The half-dozen or so particularly vivid dreams she'd had didn't count. It was to her great shame that all she could manage in response to his confession was, "Oh," but she pondered his words as they climbed into the cab that had pulled up to the curb for them and he directed the driver to her address. His honesty had floored her, and she knew he deserved no less than the same from her.

Swallowing heavily, she took a deep breath and looked over at her date. He was staring out the window as if regretting his words. Impulsively, she reached across the seat to grab his hand and waited until he turned towards her again before admitting awkwardly, "I'm glad you asked me out tonight." As he entwined his fingers with hers, she scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh.

It seemed to take no time at all before they pulled up in front of her apartment and the two of them stepped out of the cab, Clark directing the driver to wait for him a moment. They chatted about nothing in particular as he escorted her up the steps to her apartment, where they paused in front of her door and she turned towards him to wish him a reluctant good night. She was actually sorry the evening was coming to an end. "You know, this really doesn't change anything between us," she teased. "I'm not going to…"

He cut her off, finishing her thought with a greatly exaggerated sigh of disappointment. "Be willing to agree that I'm right every once in a while? Or listen to me when I tell you not to take such great risks all the time? Or maybe…"

Lois snorted and decided it might be best if she interrupted him before he embarrassed himself further with wishful thinking. "Please. You're not that good of a kisser." But even as she said these words, she grabbed his tie and yanked him towards her for a goodnight kiss. After a long moment, she stepped back and said, "Night, Smallville."

"Night, Lois," he replied, and she had to force herself to open her door and not grab him in order to continue where they left off. Though her fingers fumbled with the lock a while, she finally managed to turn the latch and make it into her apartment, where she rested against the front door for a moment and closed her eyes. She knew she had a goofy smile on her face; she just didn't care. After a moment, she grinned to herself as she raced to the living room window that overlooked the front steps and waited to catch sight of Clark leaving the building.

She watched as he climbed into the cab and waited until his car was out of sight before she drew away from the window. Shaking her head slightly in disbelief, she made her way to her bedroom and found that she couldn't stop thinking about him as she got ready for bed. Later, as she got under the covers and realized she was still thinking about that damn kiss, she muttered to herself in astonishment, "Who would have thought, Lois Lane falling for the farmboy? Don't look now, but I think you're definitely in over your head this time."


	6. June

"Oh, come on! Could this day get any worse?" Lois demanded of nobody in particular as the skies overhead opened up to release torrential rain upon her. Overall, this had been a truly terrible day. She'd slept through her alarm, so she was running late that morning and didn't get a chance to grab a bite to eat or even a cup of coffee before work. When she ran out to her car, she discovered that the engine wouldn't turn over, so she had to take a cab. Still, she could have made it more or less on time to work that morning if her cabbie weren't possibly the biggest moron in Metropolis. Even though she'd reminded him repeatedly that she was in a hurry (and nobody reminded quite like Lois), he'd taken the scenic route, hitting every red light and traffic jam between her apartment and the Daily Planet building. Then, to top it all off, despite her best efforts at convincing him that she knew where the Planet was located, he'd driven her past her destination and stopped at the wrong building, confusing the Daily Planet with the Metropolis Eagle.

Embarrassingly late to work following that fiasco, she missed the morning meeting entirely and got chewed out by her boss, Perry White. Worse still, Clark had already been sent out on a breaking story, and she was punished for her tardiness by being assigned to cover the local interest beat alone for a day. While she normally would have accepted her punishment and patiently waited to be released from Perry's doghouse, the day had been marked by nothing of notable interest. She had been forced to fill the requisite space with a searing expose of whether or not the firefighters of Metropolis would, in fact, be willing to get poor Fluffy out of a tree if asked nicely.

Not surprisingly, when Lois returned to the Planet, story in hand, her partner had not yet returned from his assignment. There was no estimated time of his return, so she succumbed to the numerous messages left on her desk and took a trip to the police department instead. She had yet to file a statement about a certain lunatic who had clued in on the idea that the best way to get to the man in blue, red, and yellow tights would be to use the reporter who "discovered" him as bait. It had been two days, and she still had a thankfully shallow cut on the side of her neck; a few nasty gashes on her cheek, ribs, and knees; and a few particularly prismatic accompanying bruises to show for the experience.

So Lois had made her way to the police station, where she got the pleasure of a cold cup of coffee as she waited for over an hour and a half to make her obligatory statement. Normally, she wouldn't mind the inconvenience; she knew better than most the amount of work Metropolis's finest had to do. Today, however, she just wanted to go home and end the cosmic penance she'd had inflicted on her that day for some bad deed or other she'd committed in the past.

Actually, what she really wanted to do was see Clark. She'd not seen him all day, and she'd come to terms with the fact that this, more than anything else, was what made her day so unbearably bad. She hoped he hadn't already made plans for the evening; she really just wanted to cuddle up with him on the couch and pretend the earlier events hadn't happened. Perhaps they'd tune in to an old movie; they'd definitely be breaking open a bag or three of popcorn.

With this thought in mind, Lois set off for his apartment. She thought about taking a taxi, but, with her luck, the driver would decide to drive her to her destination by way of Gotham City, so she chose to walk instead. And now, of course, freezing cold rain was pelting down upon her. She supposed she could duck under a nearby awning and wait it out, but with the way her day was going, she'd be stuck there for the better part of a week. No, at this point, it was worth getting a little cold and wet if it meant she got to her destination sooner rather than later, so she trudged ahead instead, muttering darkly under her breath and reminding herself that she only had a block and a half to go before her day got a whole lot better.

It was with a sigh of relief that she found herself at his front door. That she hadn't been struck by lightning on her journey was a miracle in and of itself, but she wasn't going to push her luck by waiting outside any longer than necessary. With a quick twist of the key, she let herself in to his apartment and laid her purse on the table by the door as she looked around for her boyfriend. When he emerged from the bedroom, she crossed over to him, a relieved smile on her face. It was amazing how much better she felt already.

"Hey, Clark," she said as she raised up on her toes to give him a quick kiss hello. "There's more where that came from, but wait for me to go dry off first. I'm dripping all over your hardwood floors here." Brushing past him, she hurried to the bathroom, stopping only to grab a dry set of clothes on the way.

When Lois reemerged, she found Clark standing in his living room, looking out the bay windows at the city lights. As he turned towards her, she made her way over to him and threw her arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug before tilting her head up to give him a more proper greeting. "Hey, you," she said softly as he broke off the kiss. "I missed you today, stranger."

She should have known something was amiss by the look in his eyes and his tight smile in response. Actually, she should have known something was up when he didn't wrap her tightly in his embrace and continue the kiss where they left off. Maybe she should have known something bad was going to happen when she got up that morning. She should have called in sick, curled up under the covers, and waited for a more fortuitous star to cross overhead. But she didn't.

"We have to talk," Clark said ominously as he put his hands on her shoulders and stepped away from her. Turning from her, he shoved his hands in his pockets and focused his attention out the window again for a long moment, as if he was trying to figure out what to say next.

"Okay; what's up?" she asked with concern. It wasn't like him to look so somber, and she had a sudden fear of what he was going to disclose. A hundred nightmarish scenarios ran through her head – everything from Mrs. Kent falling ill to a telegram from the military saying something horrible had happened to General Lane. "Is everything okay?"

She got a sinking feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach when she saw him look down for a moment, his shoulders sagging, and she lowered herself onto the sofa behind her, wanting to brace herself for whatever was coming. Just when she was about to press him farther, he straightened and turned to her. "I'm sorry, but this was a mistake. I don't think I can be with you anymore."

Lois's first reaction was a disbelieving chuckle. "You're kidding, right?" she asked, expecting him to say yes. When he shook his head slowly, she felt as if Clark had just punched her in the stomach. Of all the thoughts that had been running through her head, she had never entertained this one. The sinking feeling she had experienced earlier now graduated to all-out queasiness. Taking shallow breaths through her nose, Lois closed her eyes and hoped that when she opened them again, she'd discover that this was a horrendous dream or a poorly timed practical joke. But, no, when she opened her eyes again, he was still standing before her with a grave look on his face.

"Please, please tell me you mean that you can't be with me tonight. Please tell me you made other plans," she said, almost in a whisper. She had to be misconstruing his comments. He couldn't possibly be ending it between the two of them.

She saw a muscle in his jaw jump, and he wouldn't meet her eyes, but he said softly, "That's not what I meant." He reached up with one hand to rub the back of his neck as he looked away from her. "I'm sorry," he finished lamely.

Oh, god. One spectacular gastrointestinal display coming up. "Look at me, Clark," she demanded, and she waited for him to meet her eyes before continuing. "I hate to be obtuse, but you're breaking up with me?" she asked, still trying to process the sudden reversal of their relationship. She could swear he looked pained for a moment, but he at least had the decency to refrain from drilling the point home one more agonizing time.

Normally, this would be her cue to get up and leave as if she was completely unfazed by the turn of events. In any other relationship, she'd be damned if she betrayed even the slightest bit of the pain she was feeling by pressing for answers or showing that it mattered to her at all. But this was Clark, and it did matter to her. She grabbed one of the pillows on the sofa and dragged it into her lap, wrapping her arms around it as if it would offer some amount of meager protection before she said, "But I don't…" She paused and swallowed a few times to make sure she could continue with some degree of dignity. "I don't understand. I thought things were going well between us. I mean, two weeks ago, we celebrated the one-year anniversary of our first date! Are you trying to tell me that some time between that night and today you just stopped…" she had to pause again, this time because she couldn't think of any way to finish the question. Her first thought, 'you stopped wanting me?' sounding rather pathetic, even to her.

"I can't explain it to you," he began, but she cut him off.

"Well, could you maybe try?" she demanded, throwing the pillow aside and jumping to her feet before pacing back and forth in frustration. "Explain to me how you just change your mind like that, because I just don't understand!" She wasn't looking at him as she spoke; she needed to take a few moments to come to grips with what he was saying.

"What do you want me to say, Lois?" he demanded of her in return, clearly upset. "Is there anything I can say that will make you feel better?"

She knew the answer to that was no. There wasn't a single excuse in the world that would make this okay. But at least she'd have something to hold on to. "Probably not," she admitted. "But I think I deserve an answer." When he didn't look inclined to respond, she turned to him and demanded, "How long have you been wanting to do this?"

She could swear she saw pain in his piercing blue eyes for a moment, but it was gone so fast, she might have imagined it. "I've been thinking about it for a while," he hedged.

And she thought she couldn't hurt any worse. She began pacing again as, in disbelief, she repeated, "'A while'?" Then, in a sarcastic tone, she asked, "Could you be a little more vague, because otherwise, we might actually get somewhere!" He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, something occurred to her, so she stopped and whirled to face him. "Did something happen? What is this really about? Because I find it hard to believe the man who told me ten days ago 'You're the best thing that's ever happened to me' has changed his mind."

She searched his face desperately for some clue that would explain why he had suddenly decided that he didn't want to be with her any more, but his features were impassive as stared silently at her. After a moment, he said softly in a flat tone, "Nothing happened. I just realized I can't be with you."

"Can't be with me, or won't be with me? Because, if you love me, and I believe that you do, I don't think there's any reason why…"

Clark interrupted her before her tirade could begin in earnest. "I'm not in love with you, Lois. I'm sorry."

Lois jerked as if he'd slapped her, and she gasped. She really had to stop thinking that it couldn't get any worse. Only years of practice in hiding her emotions and putting on a brave face allowed her to retain a shred of dignity at this moment and refrain from embarrassing herself further. "I don't believe you," she finally managed.

She saw him sigh, but he met her eyes without flinching as he said, "I'm sorry to hear that. I've told you how I feel; I don't know how I else I can prove it to you. Your friendship means a lot to me, and I hope this doesn't damage or our professional relationship. But there can't be anything more than that between us. I…"

"If you say you're sorry one more time, I won't be responsible for my actions," she warned. Of all the things he could have said, the one thing she was hoping not to hear was any variation on the "Let's just be friends" theme. She couldn't believe that this was all she was to him was to him. On the other hand, if he had other reasons for breaking up with her, he certainly wasn't spilling them tonight. "Okay, Clark," she finally managed with a defeated sigh. "Have it your way." With her head held high, she turned and crossed to the door on unsteady legs and scooped up her purse with numb fingers. She had to get out of here now, before she made a bigger fool out of herself.

As she rested her hand on the doorknob, however, Lois turned to look back at the man who had been the best friend and best lover she'd ever known. He hadn't moved from his spot, and he stared back at her with an unreadable look on his face. She would swear that her leaving pained him, but that made no sense, as it was all his doing. With a confidence and defiance that she didn't feel, she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and met his gaze. "You know, if you're doing this because you honestly realized that you just don't love me anymore, or maybe you never did, then that's okay. I can live with that. But if you're doing this for some other misguided reason, then you're an idiot and a coward, and I thought better of you than that." At these words, she turned and left.

As she was riding in a taxi back to her apartment, she didn't allow herself to cry. In fact, she told herself she wouldn't give in to her grief at all. She hated giving in to such weakness; she would only do so once she had accepted that things were truly over between the two of them, and she didn't think she'd be willing to do that any time soon.

The next day, Lois discovered that the worst thing about having your heart broken on Thursday is that you still have to go to work on Friday. You can't just sit at home for two days and use chocolate to anesthetize yourself. Moreover, when you work with the person who broke your heart, you have to go to work and pretend that nothing's wrong. While she wasn't willing to go so far as to say that this sort of charade was ever easy, she was willing to go out on a limb and say it was particularly difficult when the person you most had to hide your feelings from was your partner, and so precautionary avoidance wasn't an option.

As she stood in the elevator and waited for it to reach the newsroom floor, she rested her head against the back wall as she pressed a hand against her stomach to quell her sudden queasiness and took deep, calming breaths. She could do this. She was a professional, after all.

In entirely too short a time, however, the elevator bell dinged as the door slid open, and she managed to plaster a smile to her face before stepping off. As she strode briskly towards her desk, the sound of her name being called stopped her in her tracks, and she turned with a genuine smile as she turned to greet the young man who jogged to catch up to her, "Morning, Jimmy."

"Morning, Miss Lane!" he said cheerfully. "Hey, your cheek's getting better!" Lois tried not to scowl as she looked expectantly at her companion. Her scrapes may have healed a bit, but her bruises were looking worse. She was pretty sure she'd never seen that particular shade of green mixed with purple on a human being before. Seeming to catch on to the fact that she was not about to discuss war wounds with him, Jimmy continued in a rush, "I tried to call you last night, but I just got your voicemail. I wanted to let you know that I got that information you were looking for on Henry Madar."

As she herself to a cup of coffee, she nodded in appreciation and rubbed her neck in an unconscious gesture. Henry Madar's obsession with Superman was the reason she now sported colors she hadn't thought were found in nature, and while it took a lot to faze Lois Lane, even she had been scared by the depths of his madness. Even with her absolute faith in Superman, there had been a point at which she thought it was very unlikely she'd make it out alive.

With a barely concealed shudder, she put the memory out of her mind. Henry was behind bars; he wasn't going to be threatening anyone else any time soon. Instead of dwelling on the past, she changed the subject and chatted with Jimmy as she made her way over to her desk. For a few moments, at least, she had managed to forget about recent events, but when she caught sight of Clark sitting at his desk, collecting his notes for the morning meeting, it all came flooding back again. With a heavy sigh, she prepared herself for a very long day.

Later, after what had felt like four eons, Lois finally managed to escape purgatory in order to run to a nearby deli to grab some lunch. All morning long, she had been forced to sit next to her partner and not confront him about the events of the previous evening. She knew she wouldn't get any straight answers out of him; he had made that clear when he broke up with her. But she couldn't help but brood over the question that had been bothering her ever since he had broken the bad news. How does someone just _decide_ they don't want to be in a relationship anymore? How can things be perfect one day and over the next?

The answer, she had to conclude, is that they didn't. Chalk it up to her reporter's instinct, or maybe a pathetic attempt at denial, but she couldn't believe that he had been absolutely honest with her when he told her why he was breaking it off. Something had to have happened. And she was going to do everything she had to in order to find out what. Her first order of business? Clearly, she had to talk to her cousin. If anyone might be able to give her any insight into recent events, it would be Chloe.

Unfortunately, Lois was unable to immediately pursue this question. She really wanted to talk to her cousin in person, but breaking stories took precedence over personal business. In the four days that passed before she got the chance to continue on her quest, she discovered that she had far more difficulty coping with her new situation with Clark than she'd once feared.

She had thought the evenings would be the hardest to get through – those endless hours between dusk and dawn when the night seemed interminable, her thoughts insufferable, and the memory of him in the bed beside her was inescapable. She'd washed her sheets and blankets a half dozen times at least, but she could swear his scent lingered on his pillow. However, she found that it was actually the little moments that were the hardest for her to bear. Any time during the day that her hand brushed against his, she couldn't help but remember how it felt to lay in his arms all night. Or when she heard or saw something remarkable, she had the briefest of moments where she couldn't wait to tell him about it. Then she would remember, and it would hurt all over again. During these moments, she wanted nothing more than to talk to her best friend. But when the person you need solace from is the one who caused the pain in the first place, what do you do?

When she finally managed to get away from Metropolis long enough to visit her cousin, she drove over without thinking to call ahead first. Pulling into Chloe's driveway, Lois hopped out of the car and strode up the front steps before knocking briskly on the front door. She really hoped someone was home; Chloe lived almost in Gotham, and that wasn't a short trip. When the door opened to reveal a familiar face behind it, a surprised look on her face, she sighed in relief and stepped forward and gave her younger cousin a quick hug. "Hey, Chlo. I hope you don't mind me dropping in on you like this, but I was in the neighborhood and wanted to see my favorite cousin!"

"I'm your only cousin," Chloe reminded her, returning the gesture.

"Well, then you don't have to work so hard at it," the older woman said with a smile as she broke off the hug and stepped through the door Chloe held open for her.

"Anyway, to what do I really owe the honor of your visit?" the younger woman asked as she poured a hot cup of coffee for her visitor and motioned towards the couch. When Lois turned to give her a surprised look, she said, "I don't exactly live in Metropolis anymore. My house isn't anywhere near any neighborhood you'd be likely to find yourself in. And may I remind you who was the investigative reporter first?"

With a wry smile, she nodded and accepted the mug of coffee with thanks. "Okay. I won't beat around the bush, then. I was wondering if you've talked to Clark lately."

Her brow furrowed, Chloe responded, "Not in the past week or two. I've been out of town on a business trip. Why?"

Lois sighed in disappointment. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just hoping…well, he broke up with me, and I was hoping he might have talked to you about it." She stared into her coffee cup as she spoke; she didn't really want to see the look on Chloe's face when she heard the news. If it looked as if her cousin had expected something like this, she might scream. If she saw either sympathy or pit _y_ on her companion's face, however, she wasn't certain she wouldn't break her promise to herself and cry. And if she did decide to admit that it was over and give in to a good sob, it was certainly not something going to do it in front of anyone else, even someone as close to her as her cousin.

Barging ahead before the other woman could react, she asked, "Do you know any reason why he'd do such a thing?"

For a second, Chloe paused, and Lois shot her a quick look. Before she could demand to know what her cousin was thinking, however, Chloe said quickly, "No! Did he say anything when he broke up with you?"

She sighed. "Only that he didn't love me." She looked into her cousin's face and saw the same skepticism there that she herself had felt. "And while I suppose it's possible that he just woke up one morning and realized he couldn't bear the thought of being with me anymore, I just can't bring myself to believe that's what happened. So, since I don't think you buy that any more than I do, I was hoping you might be able to give me some insight into the enigma and aggravation that is Clark Kent."

Chloe blew out a long breath and shook her head slowly. "Sorry, but I don't know what it is you're hoping I can tell you. You know Clark at least as well as I do, if not better. All I can say is that I've seen the two of you together; I know he cares about you. If you're wanting answers, I'm afraid you're going to have to talk to him."

Lois sighed. She didn't know what she'd expected her cousin to say. Maybe she was hoping for some magical insight into the Clark Kent Psychosis. On the other hand, it was a relief to find that Chloe didn't seem to think that she was suffering under the inability to accept the truth.

Clark had to have had another reason for his actions, and Lois was determined to find out what that reason was. For the rest of the visit, she carefully avoided bringing up the topic of her her boyfriend - make that _ex_ -boyfriend - again, but the question lingered in the back of her mind.

For the better part of a week, she mulled over the issue. It seemed to her that there were only three likely reasons why Clark would decide to break up with her, even though he still cared for her.

Reason One: She could have said something to upset him, hurt his feelings, or make him believe she wasn't serious about their relationship. In the past, this had certainly caused more than one failed romance. She was certainly well aware of how abrasive she could be, particularly since she often spoke before she thought. Her reluctance to show vulnerability of any kind had given her a reputation for being somewhat emotionally untouchable in previous relationships. And her reluctance to admit she could be wrong had driven more that one man out the door. On the other hand, she spent many hours thinking over the events of the last week, and she genuinely couldn't think of any instances where she said or did (or didn't say or didn't do) anything out of the ordinary. Sure, it was possible that it was a case of a final straw breaking the camel's back, so to speak, but Clark had always seemed able to see though her tough exterior to the things she was unwilling or unable to say. She had a hard time believing he had suddenly lost this gift.

Reason Two: He thought the relationship was getting too serious, and he wasn't prepared to deal with that sort of commitment. Of the three reasons, Lois found this one the least likely. She didn't know where their relationship was headed, and she didn't think Clark had any psychic insights into the future any more than she had. But even if he thought they were headed for the next level, he was the last guy on Earth she would expect to be put off by the thought. She'd never known any guy in her life as ready to commit to a serious relationship as her partner. No, of the two of them, she was more than willing to admit that she would be far more likely to get spooked by thoughts of the future than he.

Reason Three: He was doing it because he thought it was the best thing for her. When this thought occurred to her, she wanted to track him down and chastise him, just on principle. Nobody did idiotic self-sacrificing things quite like Clark Kent. If he thought, for whatever reason, that her life would be better without him in it, she could definitely see him breaking things off between the two of them. For this reason, this had definitely been the leading theory all week.

Having decided on a possible theory to explain his behavior, Lois decided the best way to discover if she was on to something was to subtly interview his friends and coworkers to see if they could give her any leads into the tangled mess that was Clark Kent's thought process. For five days, she had asked carefully veiled questions about the events leading up to the separation, and she was no closer to an answer now than she had been at the beginning.

To everyone's recollection, the only unusual thing to happen to her partner during that period was her abduction. When that happened, however, everyone agreed that he had been almost out of his mind with worry – in fact, they'd said he'd undergone a complete personality change. More than one person described Clark that day as being an entirely different person. Gone were his meek habits, his clumsiness, and his tendency to fade into the woodwork. He had apparently become quite the forceful personality, willing and able to take charge in the operations to track her down. A few people even said they had never seen him so determined - angry, even.

So, could something that clearly affected him that strongly cause him to end their relationship? It was possible, especially if he felt responsible for her abduction, and there was no reason why he should do so. On the other hand, if he did feel responsible, Lois knew he wasn't alone. She had realized in the days following her return that everyone seemed to feel they should carry some blame, including Perry, for ordering her on the assignment and Jimmy, for not going with her in Clark's absence. Clark hadn't been with her because he said he had some errands to run, but he'd agreed to meet up with her later.

So it was possible that she had stumbled on to something, but there was only one way she was going to find out if her theory was correct. She'd have to ask him.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Lois jumped out of her seat and ran out the door, stopping only to grab her keys on the way. She didn't care that it was three o'clock in the morning and he was likely in bed asleep; she was sick of wondering why he had ended things. She had to know. And if she was correct in her conclusions, she was going to make sure he swore to never do anything so idiotic again. After that, she'd consider letting him make up for some lost time.

Five minutes later, she pulled into a spot that was miraculously free about fifty yards from the entrance to Clark's building and cut the engine. She knew she'd get the truth out of him tonight, even if she had to stoop to nefarious methods to get it – not that she knew what those methods would be, but she was willing to improvise. Her hand on the latch to the car door, she glanced towards him front door one more time, and what she saw caused her to catch her breath. There was apparently a fourth option she had never considered.

As she watched, his front door opened, and a petite raven-haired beauty crossed its threshold. She turned to talk to someone still inside the building, who couldn't be anybody but the man she had come to see. Even from this distance and the somewhat poor lighting, she didn't have any trouble identifying the woman on the steps. She'd know the woman anywhere. As she watched, Clark stepped outside of his apartment and wrapped Lana in his arms, hugging her, and Lois finally remembered to breathe again.

She tried not to jump to conclusions. In fact, she closed her eyes and tried to think of three perfectly valid and completely innocent reasons why Lana would be at Clark's apartment at three o'clock in the morning. Maybe her apartment was being fumigated, the smoke hadn't cleared until the middle of the night, and she was eager to get home. Maybe the two of them had agreed to meet for a really early breakfast or, better yet, an _extremely_ late dinner. Maybe aliens had abducted Lana for some sort of grotesque human experiments, and she'd just returned to Earth so she could share her story with Clark.

Maybe Clark had never gotten over Lana, after all.

Hard as that was for her to believe, it would explain a lot. Why he'd broken up with her so suddenly, without an explanation. How he could have just realized that he didn't love her. Why Chloe acted so strangely when she'd been asked if she had any idea why he would have broken things off.

It even explained some things that had bothered her during the course of their relationship, like why she often woke up in the middle of the night and found that he was no longer beside her. She'd never pressed him for an explanation for his disappearances, but now it seemed to her that a man still hung up on one woman might feel guilty about waking up in bed next to another.

So that's why he'd broken up with her. It had nothing to do with anything she'd said or anything she'd done. It wasn't tied to the attempt on her life. It wasn't out of some noble if misguided gesture, or even some capricious whim.

Clark Kent had broken up with her because he was still in love with Lana Lang.

Lois couldn't believe she could have been so stupid.

She couldn't believe that it never even occurred to her that he'd broken up with her because he'd fallen for someone else – or, more accurately, because he'd realized he'd never fallen out of love in the first place. It had never even crossed her mind that maybe he genuinely had realized that he didn't love her.

For almost two weeks, she had been fighting against the inevitable, but now she had to give up. She had her answer, and he'd been right. It didn't make her feel better. Without a word, without even looking back at the man she loved standing on his front porch with the woman she envied, she started the car and started to drive. She knew she probably drew attention to herself by peeling out of the parking space, but even that didn't matter any longer. Let Clark think she was pitiful, coming to see him in the middle of the night. It would just be the last in a long list of pathetic things she'd done lately.

It didn't matter where she was going. She wasn't even sure she had a destination in mind. At first, she was pretty sure she was driving on instinct, since she certainly wasn't making any conscious effort to drive the car. She just needed to go.

She was halfway to Gotham before she pulled over to the side of the road and released everything she'd been holding in for so long. In impotent rage, Lois started to scream as she beat her fists against the wheel. She vented all of her anger and frustration, cursing Clark for breaking her heart, cursing herself for letting him, cursing Lana for existing.

She didn't know how long she gave in to her bitterness, but there came a point when the virulence left her, and she lay her head against the wheel and sobbed.

She would likely have stayed there for a lot longer, crying alone in the dark, but a sound outside her car caused her to raise her head and peer out the fogging windshield. In her headlights, a familiar figure in primary colors was illuminated. With a quick, futile brush of her hand, she tried to remove the evidence of her recent emotion as she reluctantly reached for the door handle and slowly stepped out of the car.

"Is everything okay, Lois?" Superman asked in concern. "I saw your car here, and I thought maybe you'd broken down."

"Everything's fine, Superman," she reassured him, though the irony of his words wasn't lost on her. She knew it had to be obvious that she was lying; she wouldn't meet his eyes, her cheeks were still streaked with tears, and her breath was coming in pathetic little hiccups. "I was just on my way to see my cousin, and I thought I'd pull over for a few minutes."

"Oh," her companion said uselessly, and a long uncomfortable silence stretched between them. She heard him step closer to her, but she couldn't pull her eyes from her bare feet, as if the speck of mud on her toe was the most interesting thing in the world. "Listen," he said somewhat awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Are you sure you're okay, because I could…"

"Do you think I'm a terrible person?" she looked up at him and asked abruptly, cutting off what would no doubt be an offer for him to fly her someplace safe.

"What? No!" he replied quickly, clearly surprised by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Why would you think that?"

She could feel her eyes begin to tear up again, so she looked back down at her feet. "It's not important," she said, reaching up to brush a rogue tear off her cheek with an angry gesture. She really didn't want to bare her soul to Superman. She could think of little else in the world more humiliating, in fact. On the other hand, she couldn't go to Clark any longer, and she didn't feel comfortable with the idea of crying on Chloe's shoulder about this. Maybe she was reluctant to do so because the same man had broken the petite blonde's heart in high school, so Lois should have known better.

She had nobody to talk to but the man in front of her, but if she did that, she'd likely be mortified until the end of time. Just when she was about to make some sarcastic remark and deflect attention from herself, he spoke. "I hope you know that I'm your friend, if you ever need to talk," he offered softly, and she responded with a bitter laugh.

"Yeah, I'm getting that a lot lately, actually." With a deep breath, she prepared a scathing remark again, and that was when she made a grievous mistake.

She looked up into Superman's eyes, and the concern there reminded her so much of Clark that her resolve broke, and she began to lose her composure again. "Clark doesn't love me," she said pitifully, and maybe she could have gotten out of this with a shred of her dignity intact if he hadn't chosen that moment to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. When her face made contact with his shoulder, she let go and let herself sob once more. She knew she should be humiliated; she couldn't think of much more degrading than the spectacle she was making of herself. But it felt so good to be able to rely on somebody again, and, even if he wasn't the man she wanted, for this moment, she could close her eyes and pretend. "All this time, I've been trying to figure out what went wrong, and I missed what was right in front of my face all along. He was telling the truth; he just doesn't love me," she cried.

"How could I not see that coming? I know it's a fact of life that everyone leaves; it just takes some people longer to get out the door. But I never even thought…I never considered that he might some day leave me. How much of an idiot could I be?"

After sobbing for a while, she managed to get a hold of herself, and she pulled away from him, ashamed by her sudden outburst. Looking at her feet again, she said softly, "It's just that, for a while now, I've been trying to figure out how someone could just have a realization one day that they don't love you. How is everything fine one moment and over the next? The answer is that you don't. Clark loves Lana; he probably has known how he felt for a long time. And Lois Lane, great investigative reporter, never even had the slightest hint there was anything wrong."

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and looked up into his blue eyes again. "He must have been so miserable with me," she whispered, finally expressing the thought that was haunting her, in so much pain she was unable even to cry at the thought any longer. "I love him more than anyone else in this world, and I never had any idea that he wasn't happy. What does that say about me?"

Superman said her name very softly and reached up to brush the remaining tears off her cheek, but she couldn't stand it any longer. Full of self-loathing for the spectacle she'd made of herself, she stepped back until she broke out of his embrace. "You know what, forget about all this, Superman. Please." With a determined swipe of her hands across her eyes, she rubbed away her remaining tears and squared her shoulders.

With a braveness she didn't feel, Lois said as she got back in her car, "Clark doesn't love me anymore, if he ever did, and crying over it isn't going to change anything. I just have to accept it and move on."

She glanced at Superman in the rearview mirror as she turned her car around and headed back towards her apartment. He had an enigmatic look on his face, but she was entirely too exhausted to try to figure out why. When she could no longer see him behind her, she whispered to herself, finishing her previous thought, "I just have to figure out how."


	7. July

"Jimmy!" Lois cried thankfully as she grabbed the younger man by the arm and all but yanked him off his feet and into the corner with her. "Come over here for a second." She ignored his look of confusion as she positioned him very precisely in front of her and ducked slightly so that he blocked her from sight.

"Uh, Lois?" he asked nervously as she did so, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said distractedly as she peered around his arm and straightened abruptly. "Damn! I've been spotted!" she muttered to herself before turning her attention back to her human shield, "Okay, pretend that you're talking to me."

Still sounding confused, he replied, "I am talking to you."

She tried not to roll her eyes too obviously. "I meant about something important."

"Uh, Lois…" he protested, sounding dubious.

"Jimmy," she said his name in a threatening manner. Then, as their visitor approached, she said in an exaggeratedly normal tone, "So if you'd track down those articles for me, I want to…Lana!" she exclaimed, feigning surprise. "It's good to see you! I'm afraid you just missed Clark, but I can tell him you dropped by if you want."

"Actually, I came here to see you," Lana replied, sounding a bit uneasy.

"Oh. Well, now's not a good time, unfortunately. Jimmy here needs my help." Then, as the man in question began to edge away from her, she said in a warning tone, "We're talking about his future." He made a sound approaching a squawk as she grabbed his arm and squeezed it tightly.

"It'll only take a minute, I promise. Do you mind, Jimmy?" Lana asked earnestly as she turned upon the poor trapped man.

"Uh…" Jimmy looked anxiously between the two women and then down at the papers he had in his hands. "I-I need to get these to Perry, actually," he stammered nervously as he threw Lois a terrified look and bolted towards the Editor in Chief's office.

"Some wingman you are," Lois muttered darkly to herself as she watched his retreating back. Without any other obvious way to avoid the imminent conversation, she sighed. "Okay, Lana. What can I do for you?"

"Is there somewhere we can talk privately?" the other woman asked, gesturing around at all the potential eavesdroppers.

"Well, that depends. Is it about Clark? Because, if it is, I'm afraid you're wasting your time."

"It's not about Clark. I just need to talk to you," Lana replied, and Lois stifled yet another sigh as she looked around for a private place to talk. With the air of someone heading off to the executioner, she ushered her guest into one of the empty conference rooms and shut the door behind them. Once they were in private, however, Lana confessed in response to Lois's expectant look, "Okay, it is about Clark."

"Imagine my surprise," the older woman replied dryly as she reached for the door handle. To this point, she'd managed to avoid talking about or dealing with her relationship with Clark – despite the man in question's rather obvious attempts to engage her in conversation over the past week – and she had no intention of ruining her record now. However, she couldn't help but pause when Lana called out her name somewhat desperately.

Lois felt someone grab her arm and turned to look at her companion. "Look, it's not what you think! Clark didn't leave you for me!"

Her eyes narrowed, she snapped, "And you seem to think that matters! I'm not angry that he left me for you; I'm angry that he left! And, regardless of his reasons, I have absolutely no intention of discussing our relationship with anyone but him."

"But you're not discussing it with him," Lana reminded her firmly.

Pretending a nonchalance she didn't feel, Lois said blithely, "I didn't say I was planning on doing that, either."

Lana huffed in irritation. "So you're just going to leave it like this between the two of you?"

With a shrug, she responded, "I'm dealing with it."

"You're avoiding him," the other woman contradicted, a bit acidly.

"To-may-to, to-mah-to." When she saw that her companion was about to say something else, Lois said firmly, "Anyway, as I said before, I have no intention of discussing this with you. Your relationship with Clark is your business, and I'd appreciate it if you'd leave it that way." Shrugging off Lana's hand, she turned back to the door. She really didn't know how much more of this conversation she could take before she snapped, so it would probably be best if she left immediately.

"So that's it? That's all you're going to say?" Lana demanded of her retreating back.

As she yanked open the door, Lois turned to look back at the woman behind her. "Well, that and…if you do anything to hurt him, Lana, I swear there isn't a place on Earth that you'll be able to hide from me."

Still fuming over her altercation, Lois stalked through the door and towards the exit, pausing at her desk only long enough to grab her purse. She didn't think she could bear to sit around the newsroom much longer. If Clark returned and Lana ran up to so much as shake his hand, she thought she might throw something at them both.

Furthermore, beyond the obvious desire to avoid watching her ex and his ex together, she was furious and needed some time to clear her head. Why couldn't people just leave her alone? She was trying to get past the failed relationship and move on with her life. She was trying to forget how good things once were for her and how much they had changed. She was trying to pretend like she hadn't lost her best friend when she lost her boyfriend. And people couldn't seem to help reminding her of how utterly she was failing at all of the above.

Well, it didn't matter what Lana or anybody else thought. She was going to get on with her life, or at least she would attempt to do so. In fact, she had a date tonight, though she hadn't told anyone else about her plans and harbored serious reservations about them herself. She shook her head and put these doubts out of her mind. She was going to have a good time tonight if it killed her.

Later that night, Lois was attempting to slip on a strappy pair of sandals when she heard the knock on the front door. "Coming!" she called as she half hopped, half staggered out of her bedroom, trying to finish putting on her shoes while answering the door at the same time.

A bit out of breath from her exertions, she finally managed to finish dressing as she reached the door. With one last deep breath, she plastered a wide grin on her face and threw it open. "Almost ready to…Clark?" she began, but she interrupted her thought halfway through when she realized the man standing in the hallway was not the one she'd expected to see. "What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise as she reluctantly ushered him in to her apartment.

He grinned as he presented her with the box that he had in his hand. "We haven't had a Pizza and a Movie Night in a while, so I got a large pepperoni with extra cheese and Bruce Willis's latest cinematic achievement." He looked so hopeful, she almost hated turning him down. Once upon a time, Pizza and a Movie Night was such an important tradition each Friday, only a trip to the hospital was enough of an excuse to miss it. She used to spend the week looking forward to the night when she could snuggle up against her partner and…well, whatever happened after that was fine with her. However, like so many other things, it had become a casualty of their failed relationship. She opened her mouth to tell him that she regretfully had other plans, but she could see by the look on his face that he'd noticed her slinky black dress and had put two and two together. "Oh," he said after a long moment. "I'm sorry. You're going out." He always did have a knack for stating the astonishingly obvious.

"I have a date," she said in answer to his unspoken question. She suddenly wished she had mentioned this to him sooner, but she'd decided not to tell him about her upcoming date for two reasons. One, it really wasn't any of his business, and two, she didn't want it to seem like she was trying to make him jealous by flaunting her love life at him. If she'd known her silence was going to result in this awkward scene, however, she would have said something. "I'm sorry about the pizza."

"Oh, that's okay. I mean, that's great, actually," he said awkwardly, clearly trying to sound enthusiastic about her revelation. A tense silence fell between them, full of all the things they wouldn't say, and she didn't know how to make the moment a little less painful for either of them. He finally broke the silence by asking softly, "Why didn't you tell me you had a date tonight?"

Tilting her head, she looked up at her companion and considered her options. Should she try to salvage his feelings, or should she go with the brutal truth? She didn't want to hurt him, but keeping her silence is what got her into this situation to begin with. Finally, she decided that honesty may not be the least painful policy but it was generally best. "Oddly, I didn't feel compelled to run the details of my love life past you. It's actually one of the perks of not dating someone any longer. You no longer have to care whether they approve or not." She couldn't help the slight tinge of anger that colored her words. She hated that she had to play the dating scene again; if it were up to her, she wouldn't be in this situation. She wouldn't be forced to sit through an evening of drudging up mindless small talk over a plate of linguini; the very idea of it made her want to tear her own hair out.

It had been a month. It was high time she accepted that Clark was not going to be begging to get her back any time soon. And she hated him for it.

"I know things didn't work out between us, but I was hoping we could still be friends."

Lois couldn't help the bark of bitter laughter. "Right. Friends. Great." She wished he hadn't come over. It was hard enough tonight, getting dressed up to go on a date she dreaded, without having to think of what could have been. When she looked into the face of the man who had been her best friend, however, she saw genuine pain there, and she couldn't stand that she had caused it. So, with a sigh, she rubbed her forehead and said heavily, "Look, I'm sorry if this upsets you. But I didn't tell you about my date because my love life is no longer any of your concern. You made your decision, and I'm trying to accept that. What did you expect? That I would wait around forever for you to change your mind?"

Looking away from her, he said, "Of course not. I just…I don't want to lose you."

Swallowing heavily, she looked at a spot over his left shoulder as she said, "You already have." Then, eager to get this over with as quickly as possible, she said brusquely, "I'm thrilled that you can look at me and see me as just your friend." She knew she sounded like she couldn't be less happy about it, but that hardly mattered. "But you have to understand, I can't do that yet. I'm trying, but you're going to have to give me time.

"Anyway, my date should be here any minute, so I should probably be getting ready. I'm sorry about the pizza," she finished, nodding towards the objects he was still holding in his hand.

Looking down at the box as if only just remembering its existence, Clark said suddenly, "Oh, that's okay. Just…have a good time tonight."

She managed a tight smile as she wished him goodnight and watched him walk out the door. She was going to have a good time tonight, in fact. She was determined to.

Despite her best intentions, she found having a good time to be rather more difficult in practice than in theory. She really wanted to enjoy herself, but the problem was that Derek just wasn't quite… His eyes weren't quite the right shade of blue. His lips weren't quite full enough. He wasn't quite tall enough, and his smile didn't quite light up the room. When his hand brushed against hers, as it did several times during the course of the evening, she didn't quite feel butterflies in her stomach.

He was a perfect date – witty, charming, and more than capable of holding up his end of the conversation. He just wasn't quite Clark Kent.

Lois hid a scowl behind her coffee cup. If she was going to enjoy tonight's date, and if she was planning on getting over Clark any time in the current decade, she was really going to have to stop thinking about him. By sheer force of will, she directed her attention back on her date and tried to keep it there as they finished their dinner.

When Derek escorted her to the door and kissed her goodnight at the end of the evening, she closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in the moment but couldn't manage to do so. She knew she shouldn't berate herself for being unable to let go of her ex-boyfriend so quickly. It had taken her years to fall in love with him (or maybe it just took her that long to realize that she'd done so); she couldn't expect to get over him overnight. Still, even as she promised the man in front of her another date on a future night, she couldn't help but wish he were someone else.

Early the next morning, Lois woke to the sound of her phone ringing. A lead on a story she'd been pursuing for the better part of a week was finally beginning to pan out, and she wanted to follow up on it right away. So, as she dressed, she placed two quick calls: one to Perry to let him know she would be late getting in and one to Clark to inform him of recent events. After declining her partner's offer to accompany her, she promised to meet him back at the Planet and raced off to meet her source. She'd thought her errand wouldn't take her long, but by the time she got everything she needed and made her way back to the Daily Planet building, most of the staff had already left for lunch.

Distracted by the information she'd uncovered, she almost didn't register the sight of a familiar fall of red hair on the other side of the room. When the woman standing by Clark's desk turned, however, she cried, "Mrs. Kent!" happily as she ran to envelop the older woman in a hug. "I didn't know you were in town!"

"I didn't have a chance to tell you she was coming," the voice behind Lois caused her to turn. Clark spoke without rancor, but she still felt the sting of his words. While she hadn't exactly avoided him over the past month, she hadn't gone out of her way to talk to him, either – at least not about anything that didn't have to do with a story.

Before she could respond, however, Mrs. Kent explained, "I had some things I needed to take care of in town, and I thought I'd stop off and see how my two favorite reporters are doing." She glanced quickly at her son before continuing, "I was about to take Clark to lunch, and I thought you might want to join us, if you don't have somewhere you need to be."

"That sounds great," she replied, and she meant it. Sure, lunch with her ex and his mother might prove to be awkward, but she cared too much about Mrs. Kent to let that get in the way. Besides, as much as she hated to admit it, she was happy to have an excuse to just sit and talk to Clark.

So, buoyed by her productive morning and elated by Mrs. Kent's visit, Lois promised herself that she wouldn't dwell on the past for one afternoon as she accompanied the Kents to the elevators and out of the Daily Planet building. Since it was such a beautiful day, the group decided to walk to a nearby restaurant, and they had almost made it all the way there before Clark got That Look on his face. She had become accustomed to seeing That Look on a fairly regular basis – Clark would suddenly go from being right there next to her to being…somewhere else, somewhere far away. It was like he was listening to something only he could hear, and it immediately preceded a quasi-plausible excuse and his disappearance.

"I-I'm sorry," he said suddenly, and Lois gave him a resigned smile out of habit more than anything else. "I just realized I left my wallet in my desk drawer. Can I meet you guys at the restaurant?"

She knew he'd turn her down, but she had to try anyway. "You know, if that's all it is, I can just pick up the tab for lunch. If you want, you can even pay me back later; it's not like I don't know you're good for it. And if you try to stiff me, I know people who know people who break kneecaps, so…"

"That's okay. I appreciate the offer, but I really should go get it anyway. It won't take me very long. Save me a seat?"

For a second, it seemed she was living the life she'd had two months before, and she automatically responded as she would have done then, "Well, sure. But you'd better hurry, because I'm afraid that if we get a better offer in the meantime, you're on your own, Mister."

She could have bitten off her tongue or smacked herself or something. Clark looked startled, but he smiled at her and ran off as she turned to look at his mother, who was gazing back at her with raised eyebrows. She gave a little half-shrug and continued down the street. What could she say?

As the two of them were seated at a small table and ordered their food (Lois took the liberty of ordering Clark's favorite dish for him in his absence), she tried to keep the conversation in neutral territory. She managed to do so even after they'd been served, but it came to a point where she couldn't help herself. She had to ask. "So, I haven't really had a chance to talk to Clark much lately, as I'm sure he's mentioned. I was just wondering, how's he doing? I mean, really?" she attempted to as in an off-handed manner as if the answer didn't matter to her at all, but she knew she hadn't been particularly convincing when Mrs. Kent gave her a sympathetic look.

She winced and shifted slightly in her seat. "Okay, look, I don't want to ask you to tell me anything you don't feel comfortable sharing, but I just…I need to know that he's really okay. I need to know that he's happy."

Mrs. Kent grabbed her hand across the table and gave it a quick squeeze. "Clark's," she paused, a doubtful look on her face, "well, you know how he is. He always tries to keep things to himself." She paused again and said softly, "He cares about you, Lois."

With a sardonic smile, she shook her head slightly and said, "He cares about everybody. He can't help himself. That's what's both so wonderful and so aggravating about him."

"That may be true, but I know he misses you," Martha said, and, looking into her eyes as she spoke, Lois found it hard not to believe her words to be true.

She wished she could lie, but she'd never been comfortable doing that to Mrs. Kent. "I miss him too," she confessed. Then, wanting to get off such an uncomfortable topic, she asked abruptly, "And, speaking of Clark, where is he? I mean, he could have walked to the Daily Planet building and back at least twice by now, even as slowly as he moves sometimes!"

"I think I see him now," her companion said, craning her head to look at something behind Lois's shoulder. "Oh!" Mrs. Kent cried softly in surprise as she sat up straighter to get a better look.

Wondering what could have caused that reaction, Lois gave her companion a bemused smile and turned to see Clark making his way to their table. He was trailing a familiar looking brunette behind him, and she could swear he wasn't happy about it.

The cheeseburger she'd partly eaten settled heavily on her stomach. Why did it always have to be Lana Lang? When the newcomers arrived at the table, Lois saw Clark try to catch her eye to offer her an apologetic smile, but she ignored him. There really wasn't a point. He didn't owe her anything; Lana had as much right to see Mrs. Kent as Lois did. Actually, considering the situation, she probably had more.

"I ran into Clark on his way back from the Planet," Lana was saying to Mrs. Kent. "He told me you were in town, and I just wanted to come by to say hi."

"That's very sweet of you," Martha said kindly before offering after a brief hesitation, "Would you like to join us?"

Lois could understand Mrs. Kent's dilemma, and it had nothing (or perhaps very little) to do with a potentially awkward moment. When the two of them had arrived at the restaurant, the place had been packed and they'd taken the only place that was available – a small table at the best that could most kindly be described of as "cozy" for three people but impossible for four, unless someone wanted to sit in someone else's lap.

"Oh, I'd love to, but…" Lana began, assessing the situation.

"Why don't you sit here?" Lois asked as she pushed her plate away and stood. When Lana, Clark, and Mrs. Kent all began to protest, she said as kindly as she could, "It's okay, really. I haven't really had a chance to check in with Perry yet today, and there are some things I really should take care of back at the Planet. Besides, Lana, you and Mrs. Kent should take some time to catch up." Lana still looked uncertain, but she barged ahead, leaving no time for anyone to protest. "Anyway, it was lovely seeing you, Mrs. Kent. Next time you're going to be in town, give me a call. Maybe we can go out and get a cup of coffee." With a little half-wave, she tossed some money on the table to cover her bill, turned, and left the restaurant.

She was standing on the corner, trying unsuccessfully to catch a cab when someone spoke behind her. "Lois?"

Turning, she asked, "Clark? What are you doing out here? Why aren't you inside?"

He looked adorably awkward as he put his hands in his pockets and said, "I was hoping you'd stay for lunch. There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about, and I don't want to do it at work."

"That's great, but I really don't know if now's the best time." She brushed her hair out of her eyes and glanced first up at him, then over at the front doors to the restaurant.

"It's never a good time lately," he challenged.

"Well, that may be true, but now really isn't the best time. Your mom's in town to see you, and your lunch is rapidly growing room temperature as we speak. Might I remind you how much you hate cold fries? You should save your mom and Lana the agony of having you pilfer theirs," she scolded him in a slightly teasing manner.

He almost grinned as he contradicted her, "I don't steal your fries. You steal mine. Remember?"

"Well, we're partners, so anything that's yours is by extension also mine. So, really, I'm just taking them back." She shook her head and said in a more serious fashion, "Anyway, like I was saying, you really should join the others."

He sighed and looked from her back to the restaurant. Then, with a quick swipe of his hand through his hair, he conceded, "Okay, but look, can we talk tonight? I just…" He looked away from her to the cars passing by them on the street before meeting her eyes once more. "I really need to talk to you."

Either she was in a really good mood or she really was a sucker for a guy in glasses, because she couldn't quite dredge up the energy to turn him down when he was looking at her the way he was. With a sigh, she capitulated somewhat reluctantly, "Okay. Tonight after work, meet me back at my apartment. Eight o'clock. And, Clark…don't be late." As she finally hailed a taxi and rode back to work, she wished she hadn't agreed to meet with him. Instead of concentrating on her story, she knew she'd spend the rest of the afternoon wondering what he was going to say to her tonight. More, she was wondering what she would do when he said it.

That night, Lois heard a knock on her door at eight o'clock sharp. Somewhat surprised by Clark's punctuality, she took a deep breath and braced herself as she let him into her apartment and poured them both some coffee while he seated himself at the kitchen table. As she sat across from him and took a sip of coffee, she regarded him over the brim; he looked uncomfortable and awkward and clearly didn't know where to begin. Finally, he said, "Your apartment looks different."

She glanced around the place. It looked the same to her, except that she'd put all of her photographs of the two of them together away. She'd decided to stop torturing herself, and he didn't need to know about the one secreted inside her bedside table drawer. She cleared her throat. It was time to get to the point. "I was in the mood for a change. What did you want to talk to me about?"

His uncomfortable look grew as he shifted in his seat. "It's about Lana," he said slowly before she cut him off.

"Woah!" She said emphatically as she raised her hand to gesture him to stop. "Before you say anything else, let me just stop you right there. I don't know why I apparently have to keep reiterating this, since I would expect it to be rather obvious and self-explanatory, but I really have absolutely no desire or need to hear about your relationship with Lana. If you're happy with her, then I'm happy for you, but I'd rather just spare myself all the nasty details, okay?"

"But that's just what I wanted to talk to you about! We're not dating!"

Frowning, Lois considered all the implications of this statement. Then she took a moment to imagine all of the places she could hide Lana's body. Finally, she said, "Well, I'm sorry to hear that things ended between the two of you, but I'm not going to be your consolation prize, so I fail to see…"

Clark was clearly getting frustrated, because he cut in, "Can't you just stop for one minute? Just stop and listen to me! I'm not dating Lana; I haven't been dating Lana! This isn't about her!"

She snapped, "Well, that's just great, but I really don't see why you've been so eager to clarify this point for me. Explain to me why I'm supposed to care about this, exactly."

"Because I lied to you," he said matter-of-factly.

"What?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes and looking intently into his face.

"I lied. I told you that I don't love you, and I do. I said I didn't want to be with you, but I can't stand waking up every morning without you. I can't keep pretending that I just want to be your friend."

Lois forced herself to take another sip of coffee as she digested his words. She'd wanted to hear him say them for so long, but now that he had, she wondered if it was enough. "So, then, why did you break up with me? If it wasn't because you didn't love me, and if it wasn't because of Lana, then why?"

Clark looked sadly into her face and said, "I…I almost lost you, and I couldn't stand it. I should have been there for you. Nobody should have been able to…I should have been there. I couldn't bear it if it happened again."

Tilting her head to the side, she asked skeptically, "So you solved that problem by ensuring you wouldn't be with me any longer? Even for you, that doesn't make any sense."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I can't explain it any more than that, but please believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you," he said earnestly.

With a snort, she retorted, "Well, then, may I say that your plan was well thought out? Because there's no way I'd be hurt by you telling me that you didn't love me, maybe never loved me, right?" She gave him a wry smile and said sarcastically, "Well done!"

He didn't have a response to that, and she knew he wouldn't. They sat in silence as she thought over what he'd said. She'd wanted him to come to her and tell her he wanted her back, and he had. But, somehow, it just wasn't enough. "I'm sorry, but that's just not good enough for me," she said finally.

"I've known you a long time, so I know how this game is played. You tell me you love me. We date for a while; I think everything is great. Then, one day, you come to me and tell me that you don't want to be with me any longer. We break up; I try to move on. But then, out of the blue, you come to me and tell me that you made a mistake and you want me back. Maybe I fall for that line right away, maybe I don't, but eventually it works, and I believe you and we get back together, but then it happens all over again. And again. And again.

"This, this right here, this is what you do. You did it with Lana for years, and you're doing it with me, and I've gotta tell you, Clark, that it's just not going to work this time. I'm not going to fall for it. For once, I'm going to learn from someone else's mistakes."

He was looking so pained, she wanted to change her mind. She wanted so badly to grab on to him and make him promise her that he wouldn't let her go. But he'd done that once, and she'd fallen for it. He'd told her he wasn't going anywhere, that he would always be there for her, but then he'd left. He'd broken her heart, and she wasn't going to let him do it to her a second time.

"Lois, I wish I could explain to you…" he began, rather desperately, but she didn't want to hear whatever it was he was going to say.

"I've never asked you for your secrets. I haven't asked for them before, and I'm not asking for them now. They're yours to keep. But you had a decision to make, and you made it. Now you're going to have to live with it."

"It isn't that simple!" he protested.

"Yes, it is! I'm sure, for whatever reason, you thought you didn't have a choice in the matter, but you did!"

Clark cleared his throat. "So are you telling me that you don't love me?"

"No. And even if I did, I think we'd both know that was a lie. I've loved you for years. I'll probably love you for the rest of my life. But I can live without you, and I will, because I don't want to end up hating you."

"Lois…" he tried one more time, but she'd had all she could take for one evening.

"No. I think we've said everything we needed to say, don't you? I think you should go now." She stood and made a great show of taking the mugs to the kitchen sink to wash up. It took her a moment to realize that Clark hadn't moved from his spot, but once she had, she stopped and gave him a long look with raised eyebrows. "Okay, see, that was pretty much your cue to leave. I know I have a tendency to be too subtle, but…"

"You're being a coward," he blurted before she could harass him any longer.

She jerked and stared at him, slack-jawed. "Excuse me?" she demanded, putting her wet hands on her hips. "Care to repeat that, farmboy, because I'm pretty sure I didn't just hear what I thought I just heard." She couldn't believe he might have just had the audacity to say what he did. In her entire life, nobody had ever dared to call her a coward.

He walked towards her until he stood across from her, the kitchen island between them – she had to assume it was to act as some sort of shield, because she might do him serious bodily injury if he called her that again. No, he wouldn't dare repeat himself.

"I said you're being a coward," he said angrily.

Okay, she was wrong.

She turned her head from side to side, taking stock of her surroundings. It still looked like her apartment. There were no obvious signs that she'd been transported suddenly to an alternate universe. Also, she noted that her head didn't hurt, so it was unlikely that she'd sustained a recent head injury that might have caused her to have hallucinations. She looked closely at Clark through narrowed eyes. He didn't look like he'd been struck by a sudden fit of insanity, but she supposed one could never tell.

"Okay, do you care to expand on that comment, or should I just take this opportunity to put you out of your misery?" she snarled.

"You said I made a choice not to be with you, and maybe you're right. But you're the one making the decision now. Can you live with it?" he demanded.

"It's getting easier by the second," she ground out through gritted teeth, and she gestured once again to the door. "I swear, if you don't leave right now…" She didn't know how she was going to finish that statement, but it didn't end up mattering. He looked at her as if he was disappointed in her, which made her even angrier (though she hadn't thought that was possible), and left without another word.

For two days, Lois fumed over his accusation, and, to his credit, he did his best to stay out of her way. However, the animosity between the two of them was starting to affect their work, and it was not going unnoticed. Late one afternoon, Perry called the two of them into his office and reamed them both for letting their personal lives interfere with their professionalism. As she returned home, she pondered the situation and finally came to terms with the fact that she'd better either start thinking about something else or demand that she be given a new partner. Since she didn't think she could stand to break in someone new, she'd better try to find something else to think about. She sighed flopped down on her bed, where she proceeded to stare at the ceiling and contemplate who she could call to take her mind off of things.

Obviously, she couldn't call Clark since she wasn't speaking to him. Calling Mrs. Kent didn't make any logical sense, either. She was even reluctant to call Chloe. Lois knew her cousin well enough to know that, even if Chloe somehow refrained from asking about the most recent developments, she'd still be wondering about them during the entire course of their conversation. Somehow, Lois figured that Chloe's unspoken questions would end up being even harder to bear.

There was only one person she could think of that she didn't think would ask her about her failed relationship straight away. General Lane. It didn't hurt that he didn't know that she and Clark had broken up, but, even if he had known, he wasn't the type to grill her on the subject.

Quickly dialing the number, she prayed that she'd find her father in his office. A career military man, the General could be a hard man to pin down at times, so when he picked up, Lois breathed a sigh of relief.

They talked for a while about inconsequential things. He told her about some of the antics of the boys on base, and she regaled him with tales of her coworkers' most recent exploits. Eventually, however, they exhausted their anecdotes, and he asked her if there was anything new going on in her life. Lois pondered whether or not she should confess to the breakup. Though she still didn't want to dwell on the subject, she knew that she had kept her breakup from her father long enough. The man had sources, and it wouldn't go well for her if he had to find out something like that from somebody else.

"Actually, Dad, something did happen to me recently. Clark and I broke up," she said dispassionately.

"Oh, really?" he asked, sounding surprised. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Thanks, General, but I think sending in an armored tank squad may be a bit of an overkill, don't you?" she replied on a laugh.

A pause followed this comment, and then he cleared his throat and said, "Lo, I'm also your father."

A bit taken aback by this comment, she stammered, "O-of course you are, Dad. But, really, everything's fine. Actually, it's all for the best, I swear, so you don't have to worry." When her father didn't respond, she rushed to fill the silence, "I mean, for one thing, I'll be saving a lot on air conditioning. Sleeping next to Clark is like sleeping next to a furnace; I don't know how that man gives off so much body heat, but…anyway, it'll be nice to have a lower electric bill this month."

"Okay, Lois, if you're ever wondering what types of things a father doesn't want to hear…" General Lane said dryly, and she smiled.

"Sorry," she said, but she knew she didn't sound particularly apologetic.

"Anyway, I'm sorry to hear about you two, Lo. I really am."

"Seriously, this is actually a good thing. There are a lot of things about Clark that would drive even the most laid-back person insane, believe me. You didn't know him very well, but…" she began, but he interrupted her.

"He made you happy. That's all a father really needs to know."

Lois scowled. Great. She'd been happy to talk to the General tonight because she'd thought that could guarantee her a Clark-free zone. Even when she told him about her breakup, she was expecting that he would accept the news with his usual equanimity and that would be that. Her dad was supposed to take interest in military maneuvers, not her love life. What was _wrong_ with the world?

She didn't know where the compulsion came from to ask her next question, but she found she couldn't resist it. "Dad, why didn't you ever get remarried after mom died?" After the words had left her mouth, she couldn't believe her own daring. She'd always wondered why her dad had elected to remain single after Ella Lane's death, but she'd certainly never intended to actually ask him. She honestly didn't know why she'd chosen to do so now.

Her father took so long to respond that she was afraid that he had somehow gotten cut off. Just as she'd opened her mouth to see if that was the case, however, he spoke. "I thought about it a few times, mostly when you girls were younger. Little girls need a mother. But…Ella was a very special woman. One of a kind. I don't think there's anyone in the world I could have loved as much as I loved your mom, and I wasn't willing to settle for anything less."

He coughed, then said abruptly, "Well, I'm going to have to let you go, but before I do, I wanted to tell you that I read that recent article you and Clark wrote – the one about the city contractors offering bribes, and I wanted to say it was a hell of a piece. But do you think that next time you can get the story without getting yourself almost killed in the process?"

Lois grinned. "I'll try, Dad."

"That's my girl. Good night, Lo," he said. Once she had returned the sentiment, she heard the click on the other line as the General got off the line.

With a heavy sigh, Lois hung up the phone and flipped over so that she was lying on her stomach in bed, her chin resting on her arm. She couldn't help thinking about what he had said about her mom, about how he wasn't willing to settle for a relationship that was anything less than what they'd had. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment before slowly reaching one arm below the bed. Groping blindly, she finally felt her fingers brush gently against the side of a box, and she carefully dragged it out from its hiding spot. After some serious contemplation of her actions, she slowly grabbed one corner of the top and gently removed it.

Inside were dozens of pictures of her and Clark – every picture she'd hidden away after the breakup. She'd done it because, at the time, it hurt too much to look at them. Now she needed to see them. She needed to see proof that she didn't feel about him the way her dad had felt about her mom. She needed to see that she could be happy without him.

With a tiny grunt as she lifted the box at an awkward angle, she pulled the container onto the bed. The pictures almost went flying as she maneuvered herself into a sitting position, but she managed to rescue them just in time. As if looking at the images for the first time, she intently examined every photograph in the box, looking for some sort of assurance that what she told herself was the truth. However, she couldn't deny that the images captured unanimously showed one inescapable truth:

She would never love anyone the way she loved Clark.

Oh, not all of the pictures had been taken during happy times. There was one that had been shot of the two of them in the aftermath of a heated argument. In the photo, she was glaring at him, and he was looking downright exasperated, even angry, with her. But there was also something else showing on her face – something other than irritation or anger. Something that she didn't think she'd ever feel for anyone other than the man in the photograph with her.

She had loved Clark Kent. And lying to herself about the depths of her feelings now wouldn't change that fact.

Could he have been right? Was she being a coward? She had chastised him for not having enough faith in their relationship to hold on when things got a little rough, but wasn't she doing the same thing? He had come to her and put everything he had on the line by telling her how he felt about her, and she had rejected him. She had chosen a miserable sort of safety, rather than allow herself to be hurt again.

Was it worth loving him, even if that meant she had to risk losing him? Maybe she could protect herself from a good deal of sorrow if she just let this be the end, but she would also sacrifice a good deal of joy as well. Nobody would ever make her cry like he had. But she knew that nobody would ever make her laugh the way he did, either. Nobody else would feel like home to her.

With a muttered expletive, she jumped to her feet, heedless of the photographs that went flying off her lap. He had been right; she was being a coward, but that was going to stop tonight. She paced around her room for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next. She was about to run out the door when she realized that it was still fairly early, and she had no idea if he was home or not. She knew for a fact that he tended to return home late, and as much as she wanted to see him, driving aimlessly around Metropolis seemed counterproductive.

Snatching up her phone again, she quickly dialed his number and waited impatiently for him to pick up. "Clark! I need to speak to you. Where are you?" she demanded as soon as he was on the line.

Sounding surprised to hear from her, he said, "Uh…I'm getting a cup of coffee."

"Great! Where? I'll come meet you," she said as she headed out the door.

"Actually, can you hold on for a moment?" She waited somewhat patiently for him to come back on the line. On the other end, she heard some muffled voices talking; one of them was Mrs. Kent, she was almost sure. She tried not to feel too disappointed. It hadn't even occurred to her that Martha might still be visiting, and, for the first time, she actually wished the older woman hadn't come. It would be impossible to talk to Clark with his mother around. She could wait, she supposed, but Lois was never very good at waiting for anything.

"Sorry about that," he said suddenly, getting back on the line again.

"That's okay. Is your mom still in town? Because we can talk later if it's not a good time."

"Uh...no, my mom returned home earlier today. Why?"

She explained, "I thought I heard her in the background."

"Oh, that was…are you okay?" he asked suddenly, mid-sentence. "It's just that you haven't exactly been eager to talk to me lately, so I thought maybe there was something wrong…" His voice trailed off expectantly, and Lois took a deep breath before answering.

"No, everything's okay. I just needed to talk to you about something. Can I meet you, or…?"

"Um," he interjected, sounding uncertain. "Actually, why don't I meet you at your place? I can head on over now, if you want." She agreed and then hung up the phone. She didn't know how long it would take him to get there, and she really didn't know what she'd do once he arrived.

This odd contradiction made Lois feel paradoxically like both the longest and shortest ten minutes of her life passed while she was waiting for a knock on the door. When it came, she ran to usher Clark inside even though she still didn't have a clue what she was going to say to him.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asked in concern as he shut the door behind him.

"I'm fine. I just needed to talk to you." She paused and nibbled on her lower lip a moment before continuing. The awkwardness between them was making this even more difficult than she'd imagined. It occurred to her that she should offer him a seat or a drink or something, but she knew she had to get this out now or she might never manage it. So, standing in her entranceway, she said curtly, "Okay, listen closely, because this may be the only time in your life that you hear me say this. I've been thinking about what you said, and you may have been…not entirely wrong. Maybe."

"You can't imagine how gratifying it is to hear you say that, Lois," he responded gravely, teasing her it a bit. She knew he only did so to try to alleviate some of the tension and she appreciated his efforts, but she still glared at him when he asked, "So are you saying that I was right?"

"No," she said firmly. "I'm saying that you may have had a point. A small one. Infinitesimal, really, so don't let it go to your head."

"Okay. I'll take what I can get. So what could I maybe might possibly have been somewhat, a little, but really not much or even at all right about?"

It took her a second to work through that convoluted comment, but once she had, she said with a wry smile, "You really enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"A bit," he agreed with a small smile.

"Well, stop it. I'm being serious." She couldn't stand still any longer, so she walked him farther into her apartment as she tried to explain to him the epiphany she'd had. "Look, this isn't easy for me. I don't trust many people; I'm just not that good at it. And I'm really not used to giving people a second chance. But I've been thinking about what you said, and I suppose that it's possible that I've decided not to be with you because I'm…scared." She spit out the word as if it were distasteful.

Turning back to him, she took a deep breath and said, her nervousness increasing, "I was telling the truth when I said that I could live without you. But I realized tonight that I don't want to go through the rest of my life missing you." She took a deep breath before continuing. "So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you wanted to give it another shot, I would…like that," she finished lamely.

When he didn't respond for a moment, she rushed to fill the silence, "Of course, if you've changed your mind, I'll understand. But I think you're giving up on me too quickly, and I just want to say that..."

He cut her off, "I haven't given up on you."

Beginning to feel incredibly stupid, Lois wondered how she could interview world leaders without being the least bit intimidated, but having to apologize to Clark made her a blithering idiot. She murmured, "Oh," and slowly reached her hand towards him.

They exchanged a long look before he stepped forward and entwined her fingers with hers. "I...would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?" he asked finally, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't come to her senses too late, after all.

"I would love to," she replied softly.

"I swear I never meant to hurt you," he murmured as he stepped closer to her and reached up to caress her cheek.

She gave him a somewhat shaky smile in return as she murmured back, "I know. I love you, Clark."

"I love you, Lois," he returned softly as he leaned in to give her a gentle kiss.

She returned the gesture as she slowly, almost gingerly, wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. What had once felt so natural now felt a bit awkward; everything had not magically returned to normal just because the two of them had decided to give it another try. Still, she knew things would improve in time. As she broke off the kiss, she grinned up at him and teased, only half-jokingly, "By the way, I think we should keep my little confession that you might not have been totally wrong to ourselves. If you ever breathe a word of it to anyone, I'll make sure you live to regret it."


	8. August

"Okay, well, this is clearly a problem. I'm pretty sure that mashed potatoes shouldn't do that," Lois muttered to herself as she checked the consistency of her cooking by scooping up some potatoes in a slotted spoon… or at least attempting to do so. An article Clark had written had been nominated for an award, and, although he didn't want a big deal made of the nomination, Lois had decided to honor the occasion by preparing a special meal for him. Of course, this meant she had to prove that, all evidence to the contrary, she could indeed cook something that involved more complicated steps than ensuring that the powdered cheese was evenly distributed upon the macaroni, but so far, her attempts were not terribly impressive.

Staring morosely at the soup-otherwise-known-as-mashed-potatoes, it occurred to Lois that perhaps she'd been a little overeager in her attempts to make them creamy. Gazing at the end product, she couldn't help but wonder if she shouldn't just pitch the effort and start over, but the decision became a little easier when she realized that she didn't have any back-up vegetables with which to give it a second attempt. With a slight wrinkle of her nose, she shrugged and tentatively swiped a finger along the side of the pot in order to do a quick taste test. Her efforts may not look impressive, but they didn't taste terrible. They were perhaps a little bland, so Lois added some pepper and then a bit more before covering the pot and placing it aside on the counter.

Humming to herself, Lois bent to check on the roast in the oven. She decided that she didn't care if Clark had to drink his mashed potatoes out of a cup; as long as the roast managed not to spontaneously combust in the next three minutes or so, she would consider the evening a success. Through compulsive checking, she had managed to get her main course through the cooking process, and while it certainly wouldn't win any beauty contests, it looked delicious and smelled divine. And she'd only had to call Mrs. Kent a dozen or so times along the way.

Lois grinned as she opened a bottle of wine and made sure matches were handy to light the candles she'd set up earlier on the table. It was a beautiful evening. Dinner was going to be perfect. And, of course, Clark was late. With one last peek into the oven, she wiped her hands on a dishtowel and was just reaching for the phone receiver so she could call her date and tell him to hurry home when she heard the familiar peal of her cell phone ring coming from the other room.

She jogged into the bedroom and snatched her cell phone off the top of her dresser, where it had been placed as it recharged. The caller ID said the Daily Planet, so, figuring Clark was calling her to tell her he was running late, she flipped open her phone and said, "Hey, handsome. Dinner's almost ready. You on your way home?"

"Lois?" the voice on the other end of the line wasn't the one she'd been expecting.

She said sheepishly, "Oh, sorry, Jimmy. I thought you were Clark, obviously. Is he there?"

"Actually, that's why I'm calling. Uh…I don't suppose you've been watching the news?"

Frowning, walked into the other room and hit the button to turn on the television. "No. Why? What's happening?" As she spoke, she grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels until she got to the local news. She was so engrossed in trying to listen to the newscaster that she didn't register what Jimmy was saying to her over the phone. "I'm sorry, Jimmy. What was that?"

"I said, it's about Clark. He went to the Metropolis Museum of Art to cover that new exhibit that Mr. Luthor donated, as you know, and there was a…a situation."

"A situation? Define 'situation'," Lois demanded, although she was at that moment reading the text scrolling along at the bottom of the screen and knew very well what he was going to say.

"Well, I'm not quite sure what happened, actually, but some people have broken in and taken everyone at the exhibit hostage. And Clark's…he's still inside. Perry…"

Lois cut him off abruptly. "I can be downtown in fifteen minutes. Tell Perry that Clark and I will be filing the story together after he gets out of there." She hung up the phone and grabbed her stuff to rush out the door. Once outside, however, she muttered a curse and had to run back in to turn off the oven; it wouldn't do to make sure her partner was out of danger if she managed to burn down her apartment in the meantime.

She may have said she would make it to the museum in fifteen minutes, but by a generous application of speed and the disregard of all traffic signals and lights, she made it there in less than ten. It was frankly a miracle that she didn't get pulled over and arrested for reckless driving, and Lois prayed that her luck would hold just long enough to get Clark back.

As she approached the museum, Lois pulled her car over and hopped out, not caring that she'd double-parked and her vehicle would likely be towed. She raced towards the commotion and would have run all the way inside the building if it weren't for the fact that several police officers and members of the Metropolis SWAT Team were in her way.

Looking around quickly, she saw the person who seemed to be in charge and ran up to him. "Lois Lane," he said with a resigned sigh as he saw her approach. "Why am I not surprised to see you here?"

"Clark's in there," she said shortly, not willing on this particular occasion to indulge in the usual banter back and forth that she normally would have entertained.

"We know," he said seriously, but he sounded a bit sympathetic as he continued, "And we're dealing with this situation. Now I really need you to stand back and let us do our job." When she looked inclined to argue, the sympathy faded from his voice as he said sternly, "If I catch you trying to sneak into the building or doing anything else that might interfere in police business, I will have you arrested and taken down to the station. I mean it! I understand that Clark's in there, but we're working to get everyone safely out of the building. Understand? Now, Officer, would you escort Miss Lane behind the tape, please?"

Lois frowned, but she allowed herself to be taken behind the security tape strung around the area. She even forced herself to stand still and assume an innocent expression on her face for a few minutes, until the officer who'd been charged with ensuring she stayed out of trouble got called away. The minute he'd taken his eyes off her, however, she darted back through the crowd and began to circle the building, trying to find a way in.

It was no use; the place was surrounded. However, she noticed the SWAT team van was parked nearby. Maybe inside it, Lois could find an extra vest and other equipment she could use as camouflage to make her way into the museum. It wasn't the best plan she'd ever had, but it was the only one she could come up with at the moment, so she looked around as casually as possible to ensure nobody was looking her way and quickly but carefully began to make her way over to the van.

She hadn't quite reached it, however, when she heard a familiar sound above her, and she looked up to find Superman hovering there. "Lois, what are you doing?" he asked, but the way he was looking from her to the van made it clear that he already had a pretty good idea of where she was going and why. He crossed his arms over his chest and landed in front of her, blocking her way to her destination.

"I'm looking for a way in, of course. Clark's inside, and I'm going to make sure that he's okay," she said matter-of-factly as she looked toward the building again and then demanded, "Why aren't you in there?" She knew it was unfair to always expect him to come to the rescue and take care of difficult situations, and normally she tried to be conscious of the fact that he couldn't save everybody. But this wasn't just anybody in danger, and just this once, she didn't care that she was being unfair.

Superman looked pained for a moment. "There's Kryptonite in the exhibit hall, Lois. I can't go in. But I promise you that I've been working with the police to come up with a plan to handle the situation. We're going to get everyone out of there alive."

"Okay, you do that," she said tersely as she moved to brush past him to approach the SWAT van again, but he blocked her once again.

"I can't let you do that, Lois; I can't let you go inside. You need to stay out here where it's safe," he said sternly.

Lois scowled and glared at him. "Let me put this all in perspective for you, Superman. You're standing between me and Clark, and he needs me. You've been a good friend, but don't you dare get in my way."

He tried to reason with her. "If you go in there, it's just going to make the situation worse; Clark may even do something foolish if he thinks you're in danger."

"I need to get him out of there, Superman. I need to see that he's okay," she said somewhat desperately, fully conscious of time passing while she had this conversation.

"He's okay; I promise you he hasn't been injured in any way. I need you to trust me to take care of this situation. He'll get through this."

"Superman, ask me to trust that you'll stop a meteor from obliterating the planet, and I'll do it gladly. But when it comes to Clark's safety, don't ask me to have faith that he'll be okay. I can't take anyone's word for it, not even yours. I have to see for myself."

Superman sighed. "Ten minutes. Give me ten minutes to take care of the situation before you try to storm the gates. Please?"

Lois frowned and turned her attention back to her companion. "I'll give you five. Or I'll try to, at any rate. But if he has so much as a scratch on him when he gets out,so help me…" She let her threat trail off, but he seemed to get the point as he flew away.

The next few minutes seemed to take an eternity as Lois looked anxiously toward the building; she was having a hard time trying to keep her word. With a quick glance at her watch, she noted with a groan that only three minutes had passed, and she didn't know how she'd manage to wait the whole five.

Suddenly, shots rang out from inside the museum, and Lois forgot her promise entirely. She seemed to forget to breathe in that moment, and it wasn't a conscious decision that had her running towards the front entrance until she was grabbed from behind. A police officer had seen her rush forward and moved to intercept her, and, after struggling against her constraints for a moment, she prepared to stomp on the man's instep and deliver a swift blow to the solar plexus. She didn't care if they charged her with assaulting a police officer later as long as she saw Clark right now.

Then the front doors flew open and the hostages came rushing out, escorted by members of the SWAT team. Lois stilled and held her breath anxiously until, in the very rear, she saw Clark emerge from the building. With a grunt of surprise, the officer behind her shifted to better support her weight as she sagged against him suddenly with a soft sob of relief that was stifled by the hand she had pressed hard to her mouth.

Though she renewed her struggle to get away after a moment, the officer only released her when the hostages had safely made their way to the police barricades, and Lois ran towards Clark as soon as she had her freedom. He caught her as she threw herself against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and clutched him desperately while the two of them kissed. He didn't let go when she began to cry against his shoulder; he just stroked her back slowly and murmured comforting things in her ear. She didn't think she'd ever been so terrified in her life, and Lois had been in any number of frightening situations. Through her tears, she scrutinized him closely for any injuries, but it seemed that Superman had been telling the truth. He appeared completely unharmed.

The next couple of hours passed in a bit of a blur. She stood next to Clark and refused to move from his side as he spoke with the police officers, answering an endless stream of questions about the course of events inside the building. Actually, there wasn't much concrete information he could offer. According to his statement, he'd stepped out of the exhibit hall to use the restroom shortly before the press conference was scheduled to begin. He was therefore not present when the gunmen had entered the building and taken the people in the hall hostage, and so Clark was unaware of what had happened at first. Once he found out, he knocked out a lone gunman standing guard in the hallway and tried to find a way to contact the police without the use of his cell phone, which he'd left with his reporter's notebook on his chair in the rear of the exhibit hall.

The exits were being guarded, he explained, so he made his way to a room away from the occupied hall and had looked through the window to see the police officers stationed outside. At that point, he'd broken the glass and was trying to find some way to signal them when the situation had been resolved.

Clark told this story so many times, Lois was sure that every police officer this side of Gotham had it down verbatim, and she finally lost her patience. "Look, he's already told you this," she finally cried out in frustration. "If you have any other questions, you can contact us at the Planet tomorrow. For tonight, I'm getting him out of here," she declared as she stared down the officer trying to take his statement one more time. It took her a while to get her point across, but she was finally allowed to escort Clark back to the car that had somehow mercifully not been towed. Though she wanted to go straight home, she reluctantly drove instead to the Planet to file their story as she'd promised.

She didn't think she'd ever been so anxious to quickly write up an article in her life, but it was actually something of a comfort to fall into the familiar routine. In doing so, she finally managed to let go of the remnants of the terror she'd felt, although she was still reluctant to let Clark move from her side. By the time Perry finally approved the story and granted the two of them a release, she felt completely drained and more than eager to get home. They didn't speak much during the drive, but she never once let go of Clark's hand the entire trip. Finally, as they pulled up in front of her apartment, she turned to the man in the seat next to her and released his hand to caress his cheek instead. "Hey, you," she whispered. "You really okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, meeting her gaze directly. "I promise you, I'm perfectly okay." He paused and then said with a bit of a smile, "Well, I am a bit hungry."

Lois began to give a shaky laugh when she remembered her meal. "Oh, damn it!" she cried and jumped out of the car to run up the front steps. Maybe there was something to be salvaged. Unfortunately, when she made her way into the kitchen, she found the only thing to be done with her meal would be to stare dejectedly at it. She'd been so excited at the prospect of making Clark a special dinner tonight, but now her roast was so dry, she was sure it would crumble into dust if she even tried to slice it. She could probably regrout her bathroom with her mashed potatoes. And her gravy looked like a rather alarming science project.

She was still staring morosely at the remains of the meal when she heard Clark enter the kitchen behind her. "I'm sorry about dinner, sweetheart. You know, I bet if we stuck it in the microwave…" he suggested as he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Lois appreciated the attempt, but she might as well accept that there was really nothing to be done. "It would still be poison. No, it's okay; I know it's ruined. But I did not become one of the top reporters in this town by giving up so easily!" As she spoke, she defiantly lifted her chin and moved away from him to stalk over to the refrigerator as if she were prepared to engage in battle. She had sworn she would make something special for Clark, and she was determined to follow through.

Throwing open her refrigerator door, she stuck her head inside and rooted around. The prospects were not promising, as the only food she'd bought at the store recently were the ingredients for the night's dinner. In fact, the only thing she found that even looked like it could become a decent meal was a box of Chinese takeout from down the street.

However, since she couldn't remember the last time she'd ordered Chinese food, she was willing to bet that she really would be serving Clark poison if she offered it to him.

With a sigh, she grabbed a loaf of bread and a jar off one of the shelves. Turning, she asked with a wry smile, "Well, how do you feel about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?"

Clark grinned and raised his eyebrows. "Would you believe they're my favorite?"

What should have been a laugh came out as an odd choking sound as she tossed the ingredients in her hands on the counter and ran over to Clark to wrap her arms around him again. Looking up into his face, she demanded fiercely, "What would I have done if anything bad had happened to you, Clark? Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

He held her tight for a moment until, embarrassed by her display of emotion, she pulled away and returned her attention to dinner with single-minded purpose. Behind her, she heard Clark clear his throat awkwardly, which was something he'd done fairly frequently over the past couple of months or so. The first few times he'd done it, she'd thought he was gearing up to tell her something. However, since he never followed through with a dramatic confession (in fact, he generally changed the subject abruptly), she had come to assume that she was mistaken.

This time, he stammered, "A-actually, there is something I really should tell you. I should have told you a long time ago. And I meant to, really; it just never seemed like the right time. Not that tonight's really the right time," he admitted before he cleared his throat again.

"Oh, yeah?" she asked distractedly as she frowned into an almost empty jar of peanut butter. She was pretty sure she'd bought a new one not too long ago; she just had to figure out where she'd put it. Since the cabinet to the right of the stove was the most likely place, she leaned down and began to rummage through it as they talked.

"It's about Superman." At these words, she paused in her search and glanced at him over her shoulder, a curious expression on her face. This seemed only to make him more nervous, because he stuck his hands in his pockets for a moment and stammered. "W-well, really, I guess you could say it's about me."

She straightened, turned to fully face him, and raised an eyebrow expectantly, but he didn't say anything else. He seemed to be having difficulty putting his thought into words, and she wondered what kind of confession he could make involving Superman that would warrant this nervousness on his part. As a thought occurred to her, she smiled and decided to take pity on him. Stepping towards him, she said indulgently, "It's okay, Clark. I think I know what you're going to say."

"I doubt it," he responded glumly.

With an reassuring smile, she contradicted him, "No, honestly. I suspected it for a while, but it's really rather obvious. I mean, you're just not that good at pretending. In fact, I hate to tell you this, but you're actually pretty terrible at keeping it a secret."

The doubt written on all over his face mingled with a bit of incredulity and a tinge of relief. "And you're not upset?" he asked slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe his ears.

"Upset? No, of course not!" She shook her head briefly and then returned to the cabinets to resume her quest, talking all the while. "I don't know why you were so nervous about telling me. It's really nothing to be ashamed about."

"Ashamed?" he repeated, clearly surprised by the adjective. "I'm not ashamed, I just…"

"In fact, I'd bet it's perfectly normal. I'm sure if you asked around, you'd find that you're not alone."

In disbelief, he parroted, "Alone?" Then he interjected, "Lois, I don't think you under…"

She cut him off as she caught sight of a familiar looking jar tucked in the back of a cabinet. "Aha! I found it!" Then, as she stretched on her tiptoes to reach the desired object, she continued, "Anyway, I know why you'd be jealous of Superman, but you really don't have any reason to be."

"I don't?" he asked, sounding both surprised and curious before correcting himself quickly, "I mean, I'm not!"

"Clark," she said firmly as she laid the jar of peanut butter on the counter next to the bread and jelly and turned her attention to him once more. "Look, I know that I used to have a…well, an odd sort of relationship with Superman, so I understand why you'd feel the way you do. But I think I need to make something clear. Whatever it is that I had or felt for Superman didn't end because I _couldn't_ be with him." She paused a moment and looked him directly in the eyes before saying, "It ended because I realized I don't _want_ to be with him."

When she said this, Clark's mouth snapped shut, and he looked at her in shock. She had figured that this confession would be a bit of a surprise for him, since she'd been pretty vocal about her admiration for the man in primary colors at one point in her life. Still, Clark must have been suffering under the mistaken belief that she still felt the way she once had, because he seemed rooted to the spot as he croaked, "You don't?"

Lois walked towards him and tried to find a way to put her feelings into words. "I was infatuated with Superman because…well, I can't imagine any girl wouldn't be at some point. But I realized at some point that I could never really have a relationship with him, and, frankly, I wouldn't want to."

An unreadable look crossed Clark's face at her words. "Why not?" he asked softly.

With a little shrug, she sighed. She didn't know how to explain to him the epiphany she'd had a while ago, but she knew it was important that he understand. "I know it sounds petty, but, well, I decided that I needed more from a relationship than he would ever be able to give. No matter how close we became, he'd never really…I don't know…he'd never really be mine. He'd never be _with_ me, because he'd always have to be ready to fly off somewhere.

"Superman is a wonderful fantasy, but the problem with fantasies is that the reality tends to be somewhat…disappointing. I could fly with him to places I've never been, but what could we ever actually talk about, other than the plane he'd stopped from falling out of the sky that day? Plus, it's not like we could ever really date, since it's not like we could go out in public together."

"But what if he could, Lois?" he asked, and she wondered at the sudden urgency in his question. "What if he could do all of those things?"

Lois raised her hand to rest it against his cheek as she gazed into his eyes. "Then I still wouldn't want him. I love you, Smallville, just the way you are." His eyes still looked troubled, so she shook her head slightly and sighed. It was a constant mystery to her that he never seemed to realize just how amazing he was, but then, she still couldn't believe she'd been so blind to it for so many years. "He may be superhuman, but you," she paused and gave a short laugh. "You take my breath away." She leaned forward to give him a soft kiss on his cheek and said firmly, "You have nothing to be jealous about, believe me. I would take Clark Kent over a hundred Supermen any day."

Clark stuck his right hand in his pocket again and looked down at his feet for a moment before he met her eyes once more. "I love you too, Lois."

"Good," she said with a cheeky grin as she stepped away from him. "Just remember that tonight as you're eating dinner. But I tell you what, just because of the occasion, I'll make the sandwiches extra special and even toast the bread for you." As she spoke, she turned away from him and put a few slices of bread in the toaster. "Now, I want you to go sit down and relax. I'm going to take care of everything tonight. Well, if you want, you could light the candles for me. I put out some matches earlier. I'll come out and join you in just a minute."

Dinner was as special an affair as she could make it. In the future, she'd try to bear in mind that red wine really wasn't the best compliment to peanut butter and jelly; white would be far more appropriate. However, with the way Clark seemed to be enjoying the dinner, you'd think he was eating a meal straight from Le Cordon Bleu.

When they'd finished eating, she shooed him out of the kitchen while she took care of the dishes. Instead, she suggested he put on a movie, and as she put the last dish on the rack to dry and wiped her hands on a towel, she heard music playing softly and knew that he'd taken her up on her suggestion. With a quick glance around to make sure everything was in order, she left the kitchen and saw Clark sitting on the far right side of the couch. He smiled over at her as the movie started, so, as quietly as she could, she moved next to him and perched on the arm of the sofa. Without a word, he leaned back and laid his head against her stomach, as if taking comfort from her presence.

"Scoot over," she whispered quietly, and when he'd done so, she lowered herself into the spot where he'd been sitting and gestured to him. At her invitation, he lay on the sofa and rested his head in her lap, and she smiled contentedly to herself as she absently stroked his brow and ran her fingers through his hair.

They remained that way through the course of the movie; Lois couldn't seem to stop touching Clark, as if constantly assuring herself that he was there and unharmed. When the end credits began to roll across the screen, she looked down at the man lying in her lap and expected to see that he'd fallen asleep, but she saw with some degree of surprise that his eyes were open and he was still staring at the screen as if he hadn't noticed that the movie had finished.

"Hey," she said softly, a note of concern in her voice. She waited until he'd twisted to look up at her, then she offered, "Penny for your thoughts?" as she gently stroked the frown line that had formed between his brows. "Is everything okay, Clark?"

"It's fine," he said shortly, but his frown deepened. "Hey," he said suddenly as he lurched into a sitting position. "Do you want to get out of town this weekend? We could go somewhere. I just…I want to go somewhere, anywhere that isn't Metropolis."

Lois looked at him in concern as she said slowly, "Well, okay…I guess we could go to Smallville if you want. We haven't visited your mom in a while. Unless you'd rather go someplace else?" He was acting so oddly, even for him, that she wasn't sure what he wanted.

He seemed to consider her suggestion. "Smallville's fine. Smallville's perfect, actually," he said with a relieved grin, and he seemed to relax a bit.

Lois smiled back at him as she reached for the remote to turn off the television. "Then we'll leave tomorrow after work. Actually, since we both have some personal time coming to us, why don't we take the day off and leave early tomorrow morning? But, for now, it's late and I think it's time to go to bed," she said as she reached out to take his hand, and they walked together towards the bedroom.

The next morning, they got up early and Clark called in to the Planet to let Perry know they'd be taking the day off before they packed up the car and set off. Though Lois was normally a bit reluctant to leave the city for even a few days (she hated to feel like she would miss out on any potential story), she was actually looking forward to getting away this time. The two of them had definitely earned some time off, and, if Clark's increased tension of late was any indication, they sorely needed it as well.

"Oh, look!" Clark said excitedly as they pulled into Smallville and saw a sign posted at the side of the road. "It's the last week of the county fair. Feel like going? It's still pretty early; my mom isn't expecting us until about dinnertime."

Lois rolled her eyes. "Be still my beating heart," she murmured softly, but Clark must have heard her, since he chuckled.

"Oh, come on, Little Lo. It could be fun," he teased her, using the pet name that only her dad was allowed to use without retribution.

Lois turned to glare at him, but then she said in a sugary sweet voice, "You know, you seem to think that I like you or something, so you can get away with these things. But I just want you to know, I know where you sleep, and I also know several appropriate ways to exact revenge."

He grinned over at her and raised his eyebrows. "Ooooh…promise?" he asked suggestively.

"Oh, you wish, Smallville!" she said with a laugh as she punched his arm. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, she said, "Okay, if it means that much to you, I suppose I can tolerate attending the fair for a while. But the first corn husking competition I see, I'm out of there."

"You should know by now, Lois, that there's more to Smallville than corn," he admonished her, then he paused. "We have soybeans as well."

As she laughed, he parked the car and they got out. Lois braced herself. Attending the Smallville County Fair wasn't her idea of a great way to spend an afternoon, but Clark seemed so excited about it, she couldn't quite bring herself to refuse him. She only hoped the experience wouldn't be completely unendurable.

A while later, Lois tossed her empty plate in the trash and rubbed her full stomach. Her former reluctance had faded after five hours of munching on food she would never normally contemplate putting in her mouth (who had come up with the idea of deep frying an Oreo, she had to wonder) and watching Clark show off his manly prowess (or attempting to do so, at least) at carnival games like the Ring Toss. Though she never would have believed it was possible, she had to admit that she'd actually been enjoying herself.

"Hey, look at these!" she cried suddenly as she stopped to gaze at some handmade quilts on display. Though the quilts were beautiful, she was actually more interested in finding an excuse to move into the shade for a few moments than she was in examining the items on display. Though it was the last day of August and, thus, autumn was just around the corner, you wouldn't know it by the weather. It was now the middle of the afternoon, the blazing sun overhead was definitely making it much hotter than it had been when they'd arrived that morning, and Lois sadly hadn't dressed appropriately for the occasion.

As she fanned herself with her hand, Clark spoke behind her. "Hey, do you need something to drink? It is pretty hot out here."

"Hm? Oh, well, some water would be nice, I suppose," she replied as she turned to face him, temporarily distracted from her perusal. If he was feeling any ill effects from the heat, she certainly couldn't tell by looking at him. The man didn't even seem to have broken a sweat. "You want me to go with you?"

"No, that's okay," he said. "I can handle it, if you want to look around some more. I'll just be a few minutes."

Lois agreed and turned back to the objects on display. She moved from booth to booth, looking at the various objects for sale. She finally stopped at one and lifted a handmade necklace up for closer inspection. It was beautiful, a thin line of silver intricately wrapped around green and red stones, and it occurred to her that maybe Mrs. Kent would like it.

At the thought, she looked around for Clark; she wanted to ask him his opinion of the necklace. He was standing a little ways away, scanning the crowd for her, and she waved to him to get his attention.

"I'm back. I have your water," he said as he jogged towards her and came to a halt about six feet away from where she was standing. "What's that?"

"Oh, I was thinking your mom might like it. What do you think?" she asked as she turned to show it to him.

Clark really must not have liked it, as he looked almost pained and shook his head. "I don't know, Lois. I don't really think it's my mom's style."

"Oh. Are you sure?" she asked as she tilted her head to the side and frowned at the object in her hands, giving it a considering look. "I thought it was pretty."

"Trust me on this, Lois. It's nice, but it's not something my mom would wear," he assured her, so she handed the necklace back to the woman running the booth and shrugged.

She rejoined Clark's side, and they wandered around some more. After a while, they decided to head in the general direction of the exit, since it was getting close to the time when Clark had told his mom to expect them. However, when the passed the Superman Strength Challenge, Clark turned to her with a grin. "You know, it would be a shame if you went to the county fair and went home without a prize," he said as he gestured to the game.

Lois rolled her eyes smirked. "And here I was getting all depressed that my man hadn't won me a silly alien doll," she teased him as she gestured to the prizes on display.

Clark laughed and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the carnie in front of the booth. "You say that now, Lois, but I have it on good authority that women can't resist a guy who wins them a stuffed animal in a display of manly strength."

She shook her head. "Oh, dream on, Smallville, but if ringing a silly bell on a pole is what it takes to satisfy your fragile male ego, you go right ahead. I'll stand over here and prepare to swoon in admiration." As he released her hand to give some tickets to the carnie in exchange for a mallet, Lois stood to the side and clutched her hands to her chest in an exaggerated display of concern.

With a slight tilt of his head, Clark examined the target as if pondering the right amount of force required to achieve his objective. Then he reared back with the mallet and swung it forward to hit the platform. His effort wasn't quite enough, however, as the metal disc traveled about three quarters of the way up the pole.

Standing back, he turned and handed the last of his tickets to the carnie. With a quick look at Lois, he swung back again, and, this time, his efforts were rewarded as the bell at the top of the pole clanged. He looked so proud of himself that Lois couldn't help but laugh as she stepped forward and, batting her eyes in admiration, cried fawningly, "My hero!"

"See?" he asked as he grinned down at her. "I told you that you wouldn't be able to resist."

"Take me, take me now, big fella!" she demanded as she fanned herself wildly. She was so preoccupied with teasing Clark, in fact, that she almost missed the carnie asking if she wanted to pick out a prize. Turning her attention on the rows of stuffed animals hanging from racks on the back of the booth, she pondered which one to choose.

Behind her, Clark said suddenly, "Uh…you know, Lois…I think I'm going to need some more water. You go ahead and pick out your prize; I'll be right back." And before she could even turn to respond, he'd disappeared.

Lois returned her attention to her task. Finally, she picked a medium-sized tiger doll and pointed to it, and though she'd mocked the prizes earlier, she grabbed the stuffed animal the carnie handed over and clutched it to her chest as if she were actually pleased that Clark had won it for her. Turning around, she realized that Clark had yet to return, so she began wandering around in search of him. He couldn't have gone too far, since a concession stand willing to sell water wasn't exactly hard to come by.

"Did you have a good time?" she startled when she heard Clark ask suddenly from behind her. Before she could turn to face him, he'd wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head.

Lois chuckled and relaxed against him. "Well, I've eaten my own body weight in elephant ears, fried Oreos, and corn on the cob, and now I have Herbie here," she ignored his amused snicker at the impromptu naming of her stuffed pet, "to use as bragging rights the next time I tell all my friends about how amazing my boyfriend is. I honestly don't think I could possibly have had a better day," she said teasingly, but there was more than a bit of truth to her words.

He hugged her tightly for a moment, and when he loosened his grip, Lois turned in his arms. "So did you…," Lois began, but she trailed off when she got a good look at him. Somehow, in the last few minutes, his clothing had become slightly disheveled, and a fine layer of dirt dusted his shoulders. "Oh, Clark, what am I going to do with you?" she asked in exasperated amusement as she brushed the dirt off his shirt and straightened his clothing. "You're the only person I've ever met who could get dirty going to grab a bottle of water."

"Actually, I was hoping you'd marry me," he replied, surprising her, which was only fair, since even he had a stunned look on his face, as if he'd gotten caught up in the moment and hadn't intended those words to come out of his mouth.

Her hands stilled on his shoulders as she met his eyes and she asked a bit breathlessly, "What?"

Clark sighed and closed his eyes. "I really didn't mean for it to come out like that," he said ruefully as a look of mild regret crossed his face.

"You don't want to ask me to marry you?" she asked, confused. She wouldn't be surprised to find that his proposal, or whatever it was, had been a spur of the moment thing and that he hadn't meant to ask her. That didn't mean it wouldn't hurt to have him confirm that this was the case.

"No. Yes! I mean…Lois, I've been wanting to ask you to marry me for…well, a long time, actually. I've even been carrying your ring around in my pocket since…"

Lois interrupted him. "A ring? You got me a ring?"

"Of course I did! Did you think I was going to propose to you without one?" he asked, sounding a little exasperated.

She smiled. "I didn't think you were going to propose to me at all. Can I see it?" she asked and held her breath. She didn't particularly care what the ring looked like; it could have come from a Cracker Jack box for all she cared. But if he actually did have one, then he truly had been planning to ask her to marry him and wasn't just trying to spare her feelings now by pretending.

Clark stared down at her and slowly reached a hand into his right pocket; when he pulled his hand out again, there was something clutched in his fist. Swallowing visibly, he slowly opened his hand to show her the object inside. "Oh, Clark, it's beautiful," she breathed as she caught sight of the engagement ring he held.

When she looked up at him with a curious look, Clark said in response to her unspoken question. "I really was going to ask you to marry me, Lois. I was just…I wanted the moment to be perfect…or, if not perfect, at least halfway romantic. Blurting my intentions out at the Smallville County Fair with a thousand people around really wasn't what I had in mind. And before I asked, I was going to…"

Lois grinned and threw her arms around his neck in unrestrained joy. "Clark, I just found out that the man I love wants me to marry him, and you're worried I'm going to be upset because it wasn't romantic enough? You idiot! You could have thrown the ring across the table at me over breakfast, and I wouldn't have cared less! I'd have never let you live it down, but it wouldn't have changed my answer!"

Somehow, though, her enthusiasm didn't seem to relieve his mind. In fact, his tension only grew as he put his free hand on her shoulder and spoke seriously, looking down at her. "Wait, Lois. Before you give me your answer, there really is something I need to tell you. Something I've been trying to tell you, in fact. And I know it's entirely my fault that I've put it off for so long, and I know you're going to be upset when you hear this, but you really need to know before you…before we…before anything else happens. I need you to hear me out, please, before you…"

But whatever it was that he wanted her to hear remained a secret as Lois heard a gasp to her left and turned her head to see that the two of them were drawing a crowd. Apparently, the fact that Clark seemed to be offering her an engagement ring had not gone unnoticed, and people were nudging each other and whispering back and forth as they looked on. Clark seemed to realize the attention he had gathered at the same time, because, though a brief flash of irritation crossed his face, a smile quirked at the edges of his mouth and he gave Lois a rueful look.

She only shrugged and then tried to restrain her own grin as she watched him lower down on one knee, hold the ring up as an offering, and ask, "Lois Lane, would you marry me?"

She couldn't escape her burst of laughter as she cried out in joy, "Of course I will!" Cupping his cheek in her palm, she leaned down to kiss him and heard the crowd let out a collective sigh. A few people offered them congratulations as Lois drew back and Clark slipped the ring on her finger, and the two of them exchanged a somewhat sheepish grin.

If Clark had been searching for a private, romantic moment, then Lois had to say that he had certainly not attained the former, but she had no complaints at all with the way he'd accomplished the latter. She was so happy, she almost felt as if she were floating on air as they continued their walk through the fairgrounds, and Clark seemed to be sharing at least a fraction of her joy, if the grin on his face was any indication.

There was still a frown lurking behind his eyes, however, so Lois squeezed his hand reassuringly and said softly, "It's okay, Clark. You can tell me later, in private. I promise you, nothing you say is going to make me regret agreeing to marry you. For right now, though, I want to return to the farm; I think your mom should be the first one to know about this…well, okay, the twenty-first person, at least," she said with that same dopey smile she couldn't quite restrain.

Lois practically floated on the way back to the car, and, once inside, she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the ring on her hand. Not terribly long ago, she never would have believed that she'd find herself engaged to Clark Kent; nor would she have thought she'd be so happy to be so. Now, however, she couldn't seem to quell her elation.

As Clark got into the driver's seat beside her, she found that she was murmuring slowly to herself, joyfully trying out the sound of the words, "Mrs. Clark Kent. Lois Lane-Kent."


	9. September

"You know, when you grin at me like that, it just makes me want to jump you," Lois muttered in an undertone so she wouldn't be overheard by Mrs. Kent in the living room. Clark had been grinning at her almost non-stop since they'd left the fair earlier that day, which was pretty unsettling since she'd long ago realized that she had absolutely no immunity to his grin whatsoever. Every time he turned it her way, her knees would go to jelly, her mouth would go dry, and she would spend the next few minutes trying to find devious ways to get her boyfriend in a room alone for a while. Preferably a bedroom. Since she didn't really want to be thinking those sorts of thoughts in front of his mom, she really wished he'd cut it out. She'd withstood his grin – and its effect on her – as the two of them broke the news to Mrs. Kent and even managed not to let it affect her as she made the requisite phone calls – first to General Lane, then to Chloe, and finally to her sister Lucy. Eventually, when Lois couldn't take it much longer, she'd oh-so-casually asked for his help in washing up their coffee cups and all but dragged him into the kitchen to tell him to cut it out.

"Oh, really?" Her plan didn't have its intended result, as Clark looked intrigued and only grinned wider. "And how is this supposed to discourage me, exactly?"

Lois was startled when, instead of appearing properly chastised, he rested his hands on the counter on either side of her body, trapping her between his arms. "Clark," she said warningly, "Stop it." However, he must not have been too concerned by her tone, as his expression didn't so much as flicker. Leaning around his body as much as she could, she tried to peek into the living room to see what his mom was doing. Unfortunately, with her vantage point, she couldn't see much of anything. "I mean it, Clark!"

He leaned down so that his face was only inches from hers. "What are you gonna do about it, Lois?"

"Cheater," she groused. "That's not playing fair, and you know it!" But even as she chastised him, she couldn't resist the temptation he offered, and her lips met his in a kiss. As the embrace continued, Clark took his hands off the counter and rested them lightly on her waist, and Lois took advantage of the opening. She quickly spun away from the counter and out of his arms. Laughing, she danced around the island, using it as a barrier between them, and said with a cheeky grin at his befuddled look, "Ah, ah, Clark! I'm not going to make it that easy for you! If you want me, you're going to have to catch me!"

As soon as the challenge left her mouth, Lois spun on her heel and darted out of the kitchen, heading for the stairs. On the way, she passed by a clearly startled Mrs. Kent, but she didn't have time to stop for a chat; she could hear Clark catching up to her. "Night, Mrs. Kent!" she called as she hit the bottom of the stairs and raced up them two at a time.

Clark finally caught up with her at his bedroom door. He spun her around, kissed her, and all but picked her up and carried her inside the room. When he kicked his door shut behind them, Lois howled with laughter and set about showing Clark exactly what his grin did to her.

A few hours later, Lois groaned softly and looked over at the bedside clock. It was almost four thirty in the morning, and she couldn't seem to get to sleep. There was still something she had to do, someone she still had to talk to, and she didn't want to put it off.

She had to tell Superman of her engagement. They had once been involved in a rather odd relationship at one point, but even after their relationship had ended, he'd made it clear that he cared about her still. He had to be told that she was getting married to somebody else, and he deserved to hear it from her.

Very slowly, Lois turned to look at Clark in bed beside her. He seemed to be asleep, so she tried cautiously to slip out of bed, doing her best not to disturb him. She'd almost made it when he murmured sleepily to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against him.

Lois chuckled and turned to kiss him softly. "I'll be right back," she whispered as she tried to break out of his embrace. "Clark, come on," she murmured when her efforts had no noticeable effect. Finally, he murmured something and released her, and she climbed quickly out of bed before he could catch her again.

The bedroom was dark; the only source of light was from the full moon shining in through the window, and she muttered a stifled curse when she stubbed her toe on the bed frame as she felt around for some clothes. Finally, she managed to locate her pair of jeans and the old plaid shirt Clark had worn that day. It still smelled like him, she noticed, as she slipped it on with a happy sigh. With one last glance at the bed to make sure Clark was still asleep, she picked up her discarded shoes, tiptoed over to the bedroom door, and let herself out.

After Lois had managed to creep out of the house without disturbing anybody, she made her way across the field in front of her. She didn't have an ultimate destination in mind. She didn't even really even know how she was going to get into contact with Superman; he always just managed to show up when she needed him most. Where was a crazed lunatic when you needed someone to threaten your life? She supposed she could jump into Saunder's Gorge, but if Superman happened to be someplace like Guam or Bangkok, he might not hear her cry for help. Although she wanted to tell him that she was engaged, she would rather the discussion didn't happen as he rushed her to the hospital.

She walked for a while, enjoying the cool early morning air. She hadn't really had a moment to herself since Clark's proposal, so she hadn't really had time to process the idea of their engagement. Holy crap, she and Clark were actually getting _married_. She still found it almost impossible to believe that it had actually happened; if it weren't for the ring she wore on her finger, she might think she'd dreamt the whole thing.

Lost in her thoughts, Lois noticed with surprise that she'd wandered as far as Chandler's Field. While she certainly hadn't meant to leave the Kents' property, she eyed the windmill in the field speculatively. It was as good a place as any to try to get Superman's attention, and it had the advantage of being isolated enough that nobody would be likely to overhear her when she tried. She took a deep breath, climbed up the ladder, and seated herself on the platform before calling, "Superman, I don't know if you can hear me, but I need to talk to you! I'm not in danger or anything, so, you know, take your time!" She paused, wondering whether she should amend her statement to remind him that she wasn't the most patient person ever, so if he wasn't handling an emergency, she'd appreciate it if he hurried. Deciding against it, Lois sighed and sat back. He no doubt knew that patience wasn't one of her virtues, and she already felt enough like an idiot for calling into the empty night sky that she didn't need to compound the feeling.

She wondered how long she should give him before she gave up or tried again. Why couldn't he have a beeper or something? She didn't want to spend the next couple hours sitting up here if he was on the other side of the world and couldn't hear her. Or asleep. "Great. It's five in the morning, and I'm sitting on the top of a windmill waiting for a guy who, for all I know, could be in Outer Mongolia."

"I'm here, Lois," someone said above her, causing her to jump, and Lois bit back a surprised yelp. "I told you before, I'll always come when you need me," Superman told her as he landed beside her.

"Don't sneak up on me like that! You want to give me a heart attack or something?" she chastised him as she pressed her hand to her chest and took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said apologetically as she rose to her feet to face him.

"It's okay," she said with a wry smile. "I was just lost in my thoughts and didn't hear you approach, that's all."

As he crossed his arms over his chest, he asked, "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Lois cleared her throat. "Well, now that you're here, it seems a little silly, really. But I wanted to talk to you. Clark and I…well, we're engaged. It just happened today, in fact." Though she was trying to break it to him gently, she couldn't entirely keep the joy out of her voice. "I don't know why I thought you…well, anyway, I didn't want you to…we're friends, so I wanted to be the one to tell you," she finished lamely, wishing she'd spent some time planning out exactly what she was going to say before the man in the blue suit and red cape had shown up.

"That's wonderful, Lois," he said, and he truly did sound happy about the news. She wondered what she'd been expecting, but she sighed in relief.

"Good. I mean, I'm glad you're not upset. Not that you would be, of course. I just…I don't know. I wasn't sure if you were…uh…I mean, I thought, considering our history, you might, you know, want to know." Why oh why hadn't she stayed cuddled up with Clark in bed? she wondered. She could have saved herself this entire embarrassing scene.

Superman seemed to understand what she didn't know how to say, because he stepped closer to her and reached up to gently brush her hair off her cheek. "I just want you to be happy, Lois," he said softly as he gazed into her eyes. "That's all I've ever wanted."

"I am," she replied softly as she gazed up at him. "I love him, and I have for a very long time. I just wanted to make sure you knew that, because I know you worry about me."

"Always," he said with a slight smile.

Lois cleared her throat suddenly. Now that she'd broken the news to Superman, she didn't know what to do next. She wished she'd waited for a more reasonable hour of the day to contact him. It was going to be dawn soon, she still hadn't slept, and if Clark woke up and didn't find her next to him, he might worry about her. Typically, the only thing to get Lois out of bed before the crack of noon on a day off was…well, actually, nobody really knew, as it pretty much never happened. Clark might think something terrible and Smallvillian had happened to her. "Uh…okay, well…Now that you know, I really should get back. It's running on stupid o'clock in the morning, and I don't want to make anyone worry."

Superman gave her a bemused look and offered, "Would you like me to fly you back?"

Lois nodded and smiled at her companion as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her into his arms. Though she'd never consciously made a decision to pull away from Superman, she realized that her desire to fly with him had lessened as she and Clark had grown closer. In fact, she almost never flew with Superman anymore, barring disasters and rescues. She occasionally missed their trips together, but she couldn't help but wonder at the way she'd changed in the last few years. There had once been a time when she would happily have given just about anything for a shot at flying in Superman's arms. Now he couldn't fly fast enough to get her back to Clark.

"So, when did you know you were going to marry him?" he asked her curiously as they rose into the air.

Lois chuckled. She could identify the exact moment, in fact. "When his dorky plaid flannel shirt became sexy to me," she answered. "But that stays between us." The realization had hit during one of their many trips to visit Smallville for the weekend. Clark had come down to breakfast one morning dressed in an old pair of jeans and a faded flannel shirt, and the impulse to drag him back to the bedroom and tear both off of him had hit Lois so hard that she'd had to clutch her hands behind her back to ensure she wouldn't do anything embarrassing. He must have thought the look of horror on her face had been due to the clothes and not her reaction to how he looked in them, because he'd made a snide comment about working on the farm and hadn't once seemed inclined to drag her back upstairs and fulfill her wildest fantasies.

It was at that moment that she'd realized that she was going to marry Clark, if for no other reason than loving him had clearly stolen her sanity. She had been very cautious ever since that day not to let on that she found him so sexy in flannel; if he ever caught on, she didn't doubt that he'd have no problem exploiting her weakness.

Her confession must have surprised Superman, because he let out a sudden burst of laughter, something she'd never seen him do before. In all the time she'd known him, he had always had a firm hold of his composure. When his mirth ended and he grinned down at her, Lois caught her breath as something twisted inside. She knew that grin. She'd been swept off her feet by that very grin not many hours before, in fact.

He must have realized that something was wrong, because the smile fell from his face abruptly and he looked at Lois cautiously. "Lois? Is everything okay?" She felt the two of them descend and realized they must have arrived back at the farm.

Her eyes wide, Lois stared into Superman's face. Why had she never noticed it before? How could she have been so blind? She desperately searched his features, looking for any reason to believe that her mind had been playing tricks on her. But, no, he had the same cleft in his chin, the same full lips, the same breathtaking blue eyes.

Clark Kent, her fiancé, the man she'd been in love with for years, her partner and her best friend, was a superhero. And she'd had no idea.

"Uh…no. I'm fine. Everything's fine," she said belatedly. She was surprised to hear that her words came out evenly. She felt like she'd been punched in the stomach; she couldn't quite seem to catch her breath.

Superman looked unconvinced. With a wary look, he began, "Lois, you aren't…" but his voice trailed off as if he wasn't entirely sure what he was about to ask her.

It took a few more minutes of reassuring him that everything was okay, but he finally seemed convinced that she was telling the truth. As Lois watched Superman fly away, she thought about going back upstairs to bed, but she really wasn't that tired anymore. Her mind was running in circles, and she knew she'd never get to sleep at this rate. She stared up at the window to the bedroom she was sharing with Clark and then very slowly turned away.

Lois knew she should go upstairs right at that very moment to confirm her suspicions; since she'd just watched Superman fly in the opposite direction, she had good reason to believe the bed she shared with Clark would be empty. But she couldn't quite get her feet to move in that direction. She knew she was being a coward and she hated it, but she wasn't sure she really wanted to know the truth yet. So instead of doing the logical thing, she headed to the barn. The loft had once been called Clark's Fortress of Solitude, and right now, that sounded like the perfect place to sit and think.

Lois didn't know how long she sat on the couch, lost in thought, but the faint rays of dawn had begun to shine through the window to the loft when a sound on the stairs caught her attention. She turned to see Clark standing on the landing, and she didn't know if she was ready to face him yet. There were still too many conflicting emotions to be dealt with, and Lois knew from personal experience that she tended to make rather a mess of things when she was put in a situation where she felt vulnerable. She wanted to have a better grasp on her thoughts before she confronted Clark with her suspicions.

He looked at her in concern as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Morning, Lois. I woke up and didn't know where you were." He gave her a questioning look, clearly wondering what she was doing in his loft so early in the morning.

She forced a wobbly smile and said softly, "I was just doing some thinking, and this seemed like a good enough place to do it."

He moved closer to her and asked a bit anxiously, "Anything bad?"

She shrugged. "I haven't decided yet."

"Look, Lois, I'm glad actually that I found you out here. There's something I need to tell you." He paused, took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and shifted uncomfortably as he stammered, "I-I don't really know how to say this. I'm…." he paused as if unable to finish the sentence.

"From a galaxy far, far away? Not from around here? Fond of primary colors? Superman?" she finished for him.

He winced, and Lois waited for him to deny it. She hoped he would deny it, actually. She hoped somehow she was wrong, but at the same time, she knew she wasn't. Instead, after a moment, he straightened his shoulders, took off his glasses, and suddenly became somebody she wasn't sure she knew anymore. He became Superman.

"Last night, when you were looking at me, I was afraid…I thought maybe you suspected something," he admitted ruefully.

"Is that why you're telling me now?" she demanded. "Because you thought you'd been caught?"

"No!" he exclaimed forcefully. "I'm telling you now because I want you to know! I just didn't want you to find out the way you did."

Lois took a deep breath to brace herself, crossed her legs on the sofa, and stared up at him. "Was there a way in particular you were wanting me to find out?" she asked in a deceptively calm voice. "On our golden anniversary? When the kids started to bench press the car?"

His shoulders lifted in a sigh. "I hadn't quite managed to work that part out yet, Lois. I have been trying to find the right moment to tell you, but things kept getting in the way. I knew you were going to be upset, and I…I guess I was just hoping to find a way to tell you that you wouldn't get angry." He looked at her with a hopeful expression on his face, as if there was a chance he'd succeeded.

"Oh, I think that ship has sailed, Clark," she retorted. "I can tell you that I am unequivocally furious. But, if it makes you feel any better, I also feel hurt. And stunned. And betrayed. And maybe like the dumbest person on the planet." She was also scared, but it had always been easier for Lois to express anger than fear.

"You're not stupid, Lois!" he rushed to reassure her, but her answering snort of laughter caused him to wince.

"Oh, yes, Clark. Yes I am. Should we contemplate just exactly how much of an idiot I am, in fact?" She jumped to her feet and began pacing furiously back and forth as she enumerated the various reasons. "One: I've been dating you for years now and I never knew you had another side to you. I mean, I never even seriously suspected it, which is pretty pathetic in fact when you consider it." She paused as something new occurred to her, and with a groan, she smacked herself in the forehead. "Oh, god, I'm such an idiot. A pair of glasses! Your clever disguise is putting on a _pair of glasses_? I'm a reporter, and I couldn't see that?" she demanded.

"Well, really, you weren't expecting me to…" Clark began, but she put up her hand to stop him.

"Oh, no! I'm not finished yet! You have to wait your turn! Let's see…One, I didn't think you had a secret side. I think two should be that a pair of glasses seem to have been an adequate disguise to fool me, don't you?" But before he could answer, she continued. "Three: I've never really wondered what was behind all the frankly pathetic excuses when you disappeared at inappropriate times; I thought you were just flaky. Four: I was genuinely concerned that you were jealous of the relationship I had with Superman! Five…"

"Okay, stop." Clark interjected before she could continue her rant, which was probably for the best, as each word she spoke only reminded her of just how livid she should be. "Lois, I understand why you're upset, but you have to understand that I never expected things to progress the way they did between us. When we first met, I would never have guessed that I would fall in love with you one day."

"No," she said curtly. "But I'm not talking about a decade ago. Of course you wouldn't have told me back then; I'm not saying you should have. What I'm saying is that it's something you could have mentioned at any time since we began dating! It's certainly something you could have mentioned before we got engaged!"

"It isn't that easy!" he retorted.

"Oh no? 'Honey, before we continue, there's one small thing I forgot to mention…' 'So, here's something interesting: One of the people in this relationship is an alien. Wanna take a guess as to which one of us that is?' 'Lois, I'm Superman.' I've just come up with three ways you could have broken the news that were all better than the way you chose. Which, in case you've forgotten, is to refrain from telling me at all! Or was it just that you were having too much fun at my expense? Because I can see why that might make it difficult for you."

"I wasn't having fun at your expense!" he responded, sounding angry at the suggestion.

"Why not? I mean, it's pretty hysterical, really, when you think about it. Bossy, rude, _superior_ Lois Lane spends an embarrassing amount of time rambling on and on about how wonderful Superman is, and she doesn't have a _clue_ that she's talking about her boyfriend the whole time? Seriously, it's sad that more people don't know, because that's definitely a story worth sharing. Just think of it!"

Clark stalked forward and tried to grab her hand to get her to stop pacing and look at him, but she jerked her arm away angrily. "I wasn't laughing at you, Lois! Believe me, I didn't find it funny at all," he contradicted her forcefully.

"Then what was it, Clark?" she demanded as she glared up at him.

"It was…intoxicating." He winced as the word left his mouth, as if realizing that this was maybe not the best choice of words. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that."

"Intoxicating?" she parroted in disbelief as she whirled on him. "Watching me make an idiot out of myself is intoxicating?"

"I didn't mean it like that," he said again, but she was in no mood to let him cover his mistake.

"No, I think you meant it exactly the way it sounded," she retorted as she angled her body away from him, not turning her back on him, but not facing him either.

Lois thought about all the times she'd confided in Clark or in Superman because she'd thought her confessions would remain private. She thought of the occasions she'd mooned over Superman like a lovesick calf, and then she remembered the time she'd cried on Superman's shoulder, convinced that Clark didn't love her. Suddenly feeling sick to her stomach, she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and tried to get a hold of herself. She was certain she was only a few moments away from either bursting into tears or throwing up – or both – and she didn't want to give Clark the satisfaction of either reaction.

Clark stepped forward and reached towards her, but she shook her head firmly and stepped back out of reach. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and waited until she was reasonably certain she wasn't going to embarrass herself before she lowered her hand and looked at her fiancé again. "I told you things…I told _Superman_ things that I…They were private, and I…I can't believe you would do that to me." She felt like he'd used to her for his own purposes, whatever they may be. As she looked at the man she loved, the man who'd made a fool out of her, she felt her eyes well up with tears, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop them.

"Lois, please," he pleaded with her, but she shook her head and whirled around to run down the steps to the loft. She didn't know where she was going, but it had to be somewhere away from Clark; she just couldn't face him right now.

Lois almost flew out of the barn, but she stumbled to a halt when she caught sight of Mrs. Kent on the porch, ready to greet Lana and Chloe as they got out of their cars. "Hey, you two! You're up early! The three of us talked last night and decided to throw you a surprise enga…" Mrs. Kent's greeting trailed off as Clark raced out of the barn behind Lois.

"Lois, please, you have to listen to me! At least give me a chance to explain!" he demanded before he, too, caught sight of their audience.

Ignoring his plea, Lois raised her chin and tried to pretend like nothing was wrong. She didn't want to have to explain to Chloe or Lana why she was so upset with her fiancé on the morning after they'd announced their engagement. "Hey, guys! Clark and I were just…we were just talking…about work." Lois scowled at her lame excuse; there was no way they were going to believe that. She tried to think of a better cover, but when she saw the looks being passed between Lana, Chloe, and Clark something clicked and she gasped, "Oh… I can't believe I didn't… You know, don't you?" she demanded. "Both of you know." She didn't need them to confirm it to know she was right.

Somehow this revelation hurt worse than finding out that Clark had kept this secret from her for so long. It would be one thing to discover that this abilities and secret identity was something he hid from everybody; she would have hoped that he didn't treat her the same as he did the rest of the world, but she could have at least understood that old habits are hard to break. A secret guarded that closely would be hard to divulge, especially if you'd never done so before. But to find out that everyone else knew and she alone was kept in the dark?

Lois clamped her lips together to hide any traitorous tremble and lifted her chin defiantly. She looked from Lana, to Mrs. Kent, to Chloe, and finally to Clark. She knew she was being unfair. Of course Mrs. Kent wouldn't have revealed Clark's secret to anybody, not even her. Lana had no reason to share it, and Chloe would never divulge a confidence. Clark was another matter entirely, but even he must have had his reasons. And while Lois tried to be understanding, she just couldn't find it within herself to be so magnanimous yet. It wasn't just Clark; just about everybody she loved and trusted in the world had been lying to her for years, even though they'd had good reasons to do so. The enormity of the betrayal she felt was overwhelming.

"Lois, honey," Mrs. Kent began sympathetically as she left the porch and approached the younger woman. She reached to touch Lois's shoulder, but Lois pulled away. She didn't want comfort right now, and she sure as hell didn't want pity.

"I'm going for a walk," she said abruptly as she stormed past the assembled group and headed towards the open fields on the side of the house. She had made her way to the far side of the Kent's property when she realized she wasn't alone. Turning, she saw that Clark had caught up to her and was keeping pace behind her.

"Lois, you can't leave like this. We need to talk," he said urgently.

Lois scowled. "And we will. Believe me, I'm not about to just let this go. But I need some time to think, and, frankly, I don't want you to be around when I do it."

Her words clearly wounded him, and he said softly, "You can't mean that."

"Why not?" she demanded. "Is it really so hard for you to believe? I shared everything with you, Clark! I don't trust people very easily, but I trusted you! But you couldn't do me the courtesy of returning the favor. You kept this huge secret from me for years; what else are you hiding? I mean, do I even know you at all? How can I be sure?"

"You do know me! You know everything important about me! You just didn't know…"

"That you wear tights, can fly, are invulnerable…"

"Not exactly," he muttered. "You know that sometimes I feel like I'm completely alone. You accuse me of trying to save the world, and you try to show me that I can't. You know me, who I really am; you just didn't know the details until now." He paused. "You know I love you."

Lois swallowed. "Do I?" she asked. "You say you do, but I don't know how I can believe that. You tricked me for so long…you used me! I told you things that I never would have confessed if I'd know that I was talking to…well, you! And you took advantage of my ignorance."

"How? How did I do that?" he demanded. "Tell me one time when I took advantage of you!"

Swiping a rogue tear from her cheek with an angry gesture, Lois looked away from Clark for a moment and took a deep breath. When she turned back to him, she said softly, "When you broke up with me, you let me believe it was my fault. You let me cry on your shoulder, on Superman's shoulder. You let me tell you every horrible thing I'd been thinking, and you didn't say a word."

Clark winced. "Lois, I never intended…"

"But you did. You made a fool out of me, Clark, and I don't know how I can get over that right now. I just…I need time to think. Please. We'll talk about this later, but I just can't…I need to be alone for a while." She didn't wait to see his reaction to her words, she just turned and left, but she felt Clark's gaze on her back as he stood alone in the field and watched her walk away.

Too preoccupied to care where she was going, Lois wandered for a while. She shoved her hands in her pockets and stared at the ground as it passed beneath her feet. When she finally looked up, she realized she'd somehow made her way back to Chandler's Field, and she shook her head as she realized she must have retraced her earlier steps. Just as she had a few short hours before, she decided to ascend to the platform at the top of the windmill, only this time it was for a very different reason. She usually found refuge on the roof of the Daily Planet when she needed to do some serious thinking. Since the Planet was far away in Metropolis and no other rooftops were in sight, the top of the windmill was going to have to serve as an acceptable substitute.

As she reached her perch, Lois sat and stared at the sky with a sigh. It was hard to believe that, just twelve hours ago, she'd felt like she was on top of the world. Now she was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and all the thoughts running through her head were beginning to give her a headache. Too tired to sustain her anger any longer, she drew her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees as she idly played with the engagement ring still on her finger.

For a long time, Lois sat, lost in her thoughts. There was a part of her that was still angry. And hurt. She knew that she wouldn't feel so wounded if she didn't love Clark so much, but that didn't mean she knew what to do next. Everything she'd said to him in the past half hour had been true. She felt used, and betrayed, and right now she didn't know how she'd be able to get past that. At the same time, however, she didn't want to end things between them, so they were going to have to find a way.

Lois tried to view the situation from Clark's perspective. In all honesty, it had to have been an incredibly difficult secret for him to have carried for so long, and she didn't know how he'd managed. And though she wished he had felt comfortable enough to confess sooner, she winced when she realized that her reaction hadn't exactly given him incentive to regret not having done so.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to find out that you weren't just an alien but the last of your race. No wonder there were times when he seemed so alone. She couldn't imagine what it had felt like growing up with abilities he couldn't share, even with the people he cared about the most.

Lois sighed. Now that she'd managed to calm down and think things over rationally, she knew she really should get back to Clark. He was no doubt worried; there was no telling what he thought was gong to happen upon her return. He might even think the engagement was off, and, as mad as Lois had been, there was no way that was going to happen. But even though she knew what she should do, she couldn't quite dredge up the energy to do it.

She closed her eyes and tried to think about something else, but then a sound below her caught her attention. Clark was standing at the bottom of the windmill, calling her name. "Lois? I know you want to be alone right now, but I really need to talk to you. Can I come up?"

"No," she muttered. She still wasn't ready to face him; she was too drained to pick up the argument where they'd left off. Then, knowing he would have heard her refusal, she groaned softly, sighed, and called down, "Yes," before he had a chance to walk away. Lois started to shift away from the ladder to give him enough room to climb up when he rose into the air to hover in front of her.

At her look, Clark shrugged and explained, "I know you're angry, and hurt, and everything else, but I can't help but be happy that I don't have to pretend in front of you any longer."

"If you'd told me sooner, you wouldn't have had to pretend for so long," she reminded him as he landed and sat next to her, but this time it was more a statement of fact than an accusation.

"I know," he replied softly as he looked out over the fields. "I know you're upset, but can we at least talk about it? I don't want this to be the end of what we have together."

With a sigh, Lois said, "I don't know, Clark. I mean, there's just…I don't even know how to begin." She paused and considered her next words.

"I'm scared, Clark," she confessed finally as a shudder passed down her spine and she pulled her legs tighter to her chest. "This secret of yours…I don't know how you all have managed to keep it for so long. What if I can't? What if I somehow make a mistake and reveal to the whole world that you're…What if I put you in danger? I don't know that I could live with myself if I did that to you!"

Clark leaned back, bracing his weight on his hands, and looked out at the fields for a long moment. She was glad he wasn't looking at her. She wasn't sure she could get everything out that she needed to if he did. "How do you think you'd put me in danger?" he finally asked.

"Okay…what if I slip and call you by the wrong name the next time Superman swoops in to save the day? What if I find out that you've been exposed to Kryptonite, and I can't hide the fact that I'm absolutely terrified because I know that it's my husband out there risking his life and I can't do anything to help him?"

Clark considered her words as he turned to look at her. "I think you're giving yourself too little credit. You keep secrets all the time; I've never once heard you divulge a source…"

She interrupted him – something she'd been doing a lot lately. "This is a bit bigger than trying to protect a source! We're talking about your life, here! All it takes is one mistake, and I…" she shook her head, unable to even finish her sentence.

"Then we deal with it. Together. Lois, I know it's a huge burden to keep, and it isn't always easy. I know it's incredibly hard to have to lie to everyone close to you, and sometimes things happen. I trust you and I know that you'll keep my secret, but even if something did happen, I also know that we can handle it."

Lois looked over at him sadly. "And if it wasn't just us, Clark? What if we have kids, and something I do puts them in danger, too? What then?" She paused a second before asking, "Can we even have children, Clark? I mean, since we're not…" she trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. They weren't from the same planet; there was a good chance that, outward appearances notwithstanding, they weren't biologically compatible.

A long silence was answer enough to her question, but eventually his gaze met hers. Clark's eyes were sad, but his voice was steady when he said, "I don't know." Lois nodded. It was what she had expected to hear, but it wasn't what she'd hoped he'd say. He continued, "I don't know any more than you do what's going to happen in the future, Lois, but I do know that there's nothing we can't deal with if we're together." Then, after a pause of his own, he asked, "Do you want kids, Lois?"

She knew he was looking at her face, trying to gauge her response, but she didn't know how to answer him. Resting her chin on her knees again, she looked down at her hands and considered the question. A small, wistful smile touched her lips as she said, "I've thought about it, Clark. I didn't…" she sighed and turned to look at him. "I'm not ready for children at this exact moment, but I would have liked to have kids with you some day, I think," she answered honestly. There was still something terrifying about the thought of being a mom, but she'd also found herself wondering lately what it would be like to have a child with Clark – a baby girl with her daddy's blue eyes.

But that was a discussion for another day. For now, there were still things she had to know. "Clark, why didn't you tell me?" Lois asked as she looked into those same eyes, but her question lacked the anger from before. She wasn't demanding an answer of him; she wanted the man she loved to tell her why he'd lied to her for so long. Had he truly not trusted her with his secret?

He cleared his throat but he didn't look away when he answered. "At first, it was because I told myself that you didn't need to know. We'd never been that close of friends; there were times we could barely stand each other. Even when we first were partnered at the _Planet_ , we didn't get along that well. I never thought there would ever be anything more between us.

"But then you met Superman. And you were," he paused, his brow furled, as if trying to think of the right word. "You were _different_ with him. I don't know how to explain it. You were…flirtatious and…every time you saw him, you…well, you glowed. There's really no other word for it. You looked at Superman in a way that you'd never looked at Clark Kent."

He sighed. "At first, I didn't tell you because I knew you'd be disappointed to find out that the guy you couldn't get enough of and the guy you barely spared a second glance were the same person. But the more I talked to you as Superman, the more I realized that I wanted you to look at me – Clark – the same way you'd looked at Superman – and not because I could fly you around the world, or for any of the other things I can do. I wanted you to look at me that way because you loved me. Not Superman. Me."

He swallowed and looked away from her. "I know I should have told you sooner, but I…I was afraid I'd lose you when you found out. I stupidly thought that if I waited, maybe I could find the perfect moment, the perfect way to do it so that you wouldn't be angry or hurt. There have been so many times that I've wanted to tell you everything, but I could never seem to get the words out right. And the longer I waited, the harder it got."

"So tell me now," she suggested softly.

He did. He told her everything, from how the Kents had discovered him after the first meteor shower and taken him home, to the discovery of each of his powers. He told her about the significance behind the Kawatche caves, about Jor-El's claims regarding his destiny, and about the circumstances surrounding Jonathan Kent's death. He confessed that there were many times he'd felt like a freak growing up, how there were so many times that he'd longed to be normal, and how the need to protect his secret and the concern of what he could unintentionally do had brought about the end of his relationship with Lana. He told her how he'd become convinced he'd always be alone.

Her eyes didn't leave his face once as he shared everything with her. Finally, he explained how he'd decided to become Superman, how he'd managed to keep his secret for so long, and even how everyone had been adamantly trying to convince him to tell Lois everything for some time. She scowled when he admitted that Lana had come to him after he'd broken up with Lois and spent the better part of the evening trying to convince him to stop being an idiot and confess everything, but she still didn't interject.

When he'd finished, he fell silent and waited patiently for Lois's response. She winced and took a moment to stretch; she hadn't realized how long she'd been sitting in the same position as she listened to Clark's story. She wasn't quite sure how to respond to his confession; what do you say to something like that? Without a word, she reached out and linked her fingers with his, content for the moment to sit in silence, holding his hand as she digested his words.

The look on her face must not have put him entirely at ease, however, as he asked, "Would it really be that bad to be married to me?" Lois's heart ached at the plaintive edge to his question.

"No, Clark, I don't think it would be awful to be married to you," she told him. Then she took a deep breath and shook her head. "I guess I'm just selfish and petty. I hate having to share you with the rest of the world. It's awful to admit, I know, but I was happy to think that I'd have you all to myself, that you'd always be there when I needed you."

"I will, Lois. I promise you that."

"Don't be ridiculous, Clark. You don't know that you'll be able to keep that promise. If it were between saving me and a train full of people, you'd have to save the people in the train. Of course you'd have to, and the fact that you always try to do the right thing is one of the reasons I love you. I just never thought that was the kind of choice you'd ever have to make." She squeezed his hand comfortingly and threw him a shaky smile. "I can handle it; I just need to get used to the idea." She turned to gaze out over the fields again, knowing Clark was still looking over at her.

Clark regarded her for a long moment before he asked, "There's something else bothering you, isn't there?"

Lois scowled; sometimes she wished he didn't know her so well. There was something else, but she was ashamed to admit that it had even crossed her mind. She had tried to ignore it, but since Clark was looking at her so expectantly, she realized that she was going to have to confess. "I'm…What if I'm not enough for you, Clark? With all the things you can do, what if you grow bored with me?" she blurted and then caught her breath.

She couldn't even look at him. It was a shameful thing, having to admit to the person that you loved that they might grow tired of you on day. It was especially difficult for Lois to confess that the thought had crossed her mind, since pride and self-confidence were not attributes she could generally be accused of lacking.

"Grow bored of you? Lois Lane?" he asked in disbelief. "The woman who's been in and out of Metropolis General Hospital so many times, they'll no doubt be dedicating a new wing to you any time now? My partner, the same person who regularly does things that may give me a heart attack at an early age? Believe me, Lois, when I say that you are many things: bullheaded, exasperating, impulsive, stubborn…" As Clark began to list off her attributes, Lois grinned and punched him lightly on the arm. "Captivating, brilliant, breathtaking, irresistible… But boring is one thing you can never be accused of being. I can't imagine anyone growing tired of you, least of all me."

"Well, you really know how to flatter a girl," she murmured, still smiling at him.

Grinning back, he joked, "Well, I do what I can."

"You know, we really should be getting back," Lois said reluctantly as she rose to her feet. They had been gone for hours, and Mrs. Kent had to be growing concerned.

Clark nodded and stood next to her. "Do you want me to fly you back?"

"I'd rather walk, if you don't mind," she confessed. "I'm stiff from sitting for so long, and I need a chance to stretch my legs." Plus, she still was working on processing the fact that Clark could fly.

He nodded and followed her down the ladder to the ground, but as they set off towards the Kent Farm, he grabbed her hand and asked, "So is…is everything okay between us?"

Lois stopped in her tracks and waited until he'd done likewise and turned to face her before she said, "Oh, don't even get your hopes up, Mr. Kent. You're not getting rid of me that easily." When Clark grinned down at her, she leaned forward to give him a kiss before they set off again.

Back on the Kent Farm, Lois found that her concerns had been valid. When she and Clark entered the kitchen, Mrs. Kent, Chloe, and Lana stopped mid-conversation and threw them both anxious looks. They seemed to relax and breathe a collective sigh of relief, however, when they saw that she and Clark were holding hands. Lois smiled reassuringly and said, "Sorry to have been gone for so long. Thank you both for coming down to see us. So, what'd we miss?" She spoke as if nothing amiss had happened that morning. She didn't want to talk about what had happened between her and Clark out in Chandler's Field. Their conversation was private, and she wanted it to remain between the two of them.

Happily, everyone seemed to pick up on her cue, as Chloe and Lana stood to extend their belated congratulations. Lois could tell that Chloe was about to burst from the desire to know what had happened in the last few hours, but even she thankfully refrained from asking any questions.

For the rest of the afternoon, Lois, Lana, Chloe, and Mrs. Kent discussed initial wedding preparations, while Clark wisely refrained from getting in their way. Lois rather wished she could join him on the other side of the room; she had never been one of those women who fantasized about her ideal wedding, and her head was already spinning when she realized the number of details that were apparently involved in planning such an event.

Later that evening, everyone had moved into the living room and was sitting around reminiscing about the past when Lois frowned into her mug and realized she was out of coffee. Excusing herself from the group, she wandered into the kitchen to refill her mug, since a steady intake of caffeine was the only thing getting her through the day. As she walked into the other room, however, a hand reached out and grabbed her, swinging her around the corner.

"What are you…?" she began, but Clark put a finger up to her lips to quiet her. Raising her eyebrows, she gave him an inquiring look as she noticed the mischievous glint in his eye. Nodding towards the back door, he gestured once again for her silence, and they slowly crossed over to it together. With one last look over his shoulder to make certain their escape wasn't being noticed, Clark quietly opened the door and pulled Lois outside.

She waited until the door was safely closed behind them before she asked, "Okay, Mr. Kent. What's with the covert escape? Just what are you up to?"

Clark grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I just needed some time alone with my fiancée. Is that hard to believe?" he asked as he brushed a soft kiss on her lips. Pulling away from her, he tilted his head back to look at the night sky, and she followed his gaze. After a moment, he looked back at her. "Fly with me?" he asked.

She tilted her head back to look at him. "When have I ever been able to resist?"

Clark grinned down at her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She looped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight as they floated into the night sky. When they had flown beyond the sounds of the world below, Clark stopped their ascent and Lois took a moment to marvel at the beauty of the moonlight shining off the clouds in the beautiful starry sky.

"It's amazing," Lois breathed, entranced by the sight. It had been so long since she'd really flown with Superman, she'd almost forgotten how peaceful floating above the clouds could be. When she looked back at the man in her arms, however, the rest of the world fell away and she lost herself in his eyes.

With a soft smile, Clark gazed down at her and murmured, "This is how I wanted to propose to you. Up here, where it's just the two of us." She opened her mouth to interject that she had absolutely no complaints with the way he'd gotten the job done, but the look on his face stopped her from speaking. "Lois, you're the most amazing woman I've ever met. Even when we're fighting, you take my breath away, and I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without you." He paused and reached up with one hand to brush a lock of hair off her cheek tenderly before continuing. "I can't promise that we'll never face difficult times, but I can promise that I'll never stop loving you or wanting you as much as I do at this moment. Whatever the future brings, I want to be standing by your side. I want us to face it together.

"Lois Lane, will you marry me?"

Lois tightened her hold around his shoulders. She was always amazed by Clark's ability to take her breath away, to make her feel like she was the most precious thing in the world to him. She didn't know what she'd done in her life to make her deserving of the love she'd found with the man in her arms. "Yes, Clark. Of course I'll marry you."


	10. Chapter 10

"I have an idea!" Lois cried as she burst through the front door to the apartment above the Talon and jumped onto the couch next to her fiancé. "Let's elope! If we take off now, we can be married by nightfall and start our honeymoon early. What do you think?"

With a laugh, Clark replied, "Lois, our wedding is tomorrow!"

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "I know. But there's absolutely no reason why we should feel compelled to exchange vows in front of four hundred people…"

Still sounding amused, he mumbled, "I think the number is closer to twenty."

Lois carried on as if she hadn't heard him. "…When it would be so much easier if the two of us just ran away together. Plus, if we elope, there's no reason for me to keep dealing with the Wedding Planner from Hell."

"Oh, is _that_ what this is about?" Clark sat back and looked at her with an indulgent smile. "I should have known. You know, if you have such a hard time dealing with her, we could have hired someone else."

Lois scowled. "She was willing to deal with our uncertain schedules and the tendency for one or the other of us to disappear on her without reason or warning. Plus, she agreed to travel from Metropolis to Smallville to put on the wedding, and she was willing to take care of most of the smaller details, like making sure the cake is ready in time, which is great because there's no way I'd keep it all straight."

"She sounds wonderful. So what's the problem?"

"The problem is that she's also horrendous! She makes Fascist dictators seem warm and fuzzy! I've met drill instructors with more patience, understanding, and tact!" When Clark snorted with laughter, she exclaimed, "It's true! I swear, if she me gives me _one more_ frankly pitying look because I can't discern the difference between egg shell, off-white, and cream, I'll…well, I don't know what I'll do, but it won't be pretty. You should have seen the look on her face when I told her I couldn't possibly care less what color announcements we have!"

"Really? I never realized," Clark said, then sighed theatrically. "In that case, I'm going to have to ask for that ring back." At her astonished look, he continued, "I'm afraid I can't marry a woman who doesn't know the difference between eggshell and cream."

Lois glared at him. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you should never mess with a bride on the evening before her wedding? Men have _died_ from doing just that sort of thing before."

Clark smirked. "I'm invulnerable. I'll take my chances."

Arching an eyebrow at him, Lois threatened, "Not if you want a wedding night."

"I take it back!" he replied quickly.

Lois couldn't help but laugh. Somehow, Clark had done it again. She didn't know how he managed it, but he always made her see humor in a situation just when she was about to explode with anger or frustration. As her mirth subsided, she relaxed beside him on the couch, laying her head upon his shoulder. She was about to drift off to sleep, however, when she remembered something and jerked upright again. "I almost forgot! Wait right here; I have something for you." Without waiting for a response, she jumped to her feet and rushed into the bedroom.

When she came out again, she had a small square box in her hands, wrapped in white paper with a big silver bow on top. As she hopped back on the couch, she turned her body towards Clark, pulled her feet under her, and thrust the package at him. "This is for tomorrow," she informed him as he took her gift.

Lois watched with a smile as Clark tore the paper off the box and opened it to reveal what lay inside. For about three seconds, his brow wrinkled in confusion as he looked down at the contents. Then, pulling the object slowly out of the box, he turned his bewildered gaze on her. "Earmuffs. Um…thanks, Lois," he said dubiously as he gave her a searching look. "You know, it's not really that cold in Kansas in October, and, even if it were, I'm not that affected by the cold weather anyway."

Lois laughed at the confusion on his face. "They're not actually meant to keep your ears warm. I just know how things go with you, and I need you to promise me that you'll wear these until right before the ceremony tomorrow."

He looked at her with a halfway amused smile on his face. "And what exactly is it that you think is going to happen?" he asked as if the idea that anything could interfere with their wedding day was preposterous.

Lois rolled her eyes and said, lowering her tone to mimic his voice, "I do…believe I left something in the car. Hold that thought; I'll be right back."

Clark snorted. "I wouldn't do that!" After a brief pause, he amended, "Well, I wouldn't come up with an excuse that lame, at least." When she didn't say a word, she just looked at him with raised eyebrows, he finally said a bit sheepishly, "Okay, I certainly wouldn't do it in that voice!"

"Yeah, just try it, Kent, and the guests will see a white blur go streaking down the aisle as I charge after you. I have no problems doing a full body tackle in a wedding dress if it'll stop you from flying away."

Clark grinned. "Well, that would be an interesting…," he paused and sobered when she glared at him. Clearing his throat, he changed the subject. "So these are like earplugs? I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but I don't think they'll do much good."

Lois scowled. "Wear them."

"You know, I have really good hearing…"

"Wear them," she demanded again, refusing to listen to his reasoning. Whether or not they actually worked wasn't really the issue; just knowing that he was at least _trying_ not to let the world's constant need for Superman get in the way of their wedding would make her feel better.

When he looked ready to protest once more, she stared him down until he closed his mouth and shrugged. "Okay, okay! I'll wear them! I'll look ridiculous, but I'll wear them!"

"You promise?" Lois asked, staring at him with narrowed eyes.

"I promise," he replied. "I won't take them off until right before the ceremony, no matter what."

Lois grinned happily. "Good." She made a great show of yawning widely as she nudged him gently with her foot. "It's getting late; we should probably call it a night."

"You know, I could stay," he offered as he leaned in for another kiss, but she put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him away.

"Thus defeating the whole purpose of me staying in town. Who would have thought that your mom was so superstitious?" When Mrs. Kent had suggested that Lois spend the night before her wedding at the Talon, she'd explained that it would remove the inconvenience of Lois having to travel into town early the next morning to get her hair and makeup done. However, it became clear that Martha had an ulterior motive when she insisted that Clark spend that night at the farm. Clark had jokingly accused her of being superstitious, but Martha had shrugged and said there was nothing wrong with upholding tradition. Lois smiled at the memory, but she said firmly, "Now get out of here. Some of us need beauty sleep."

"I don't think it'll do much good," Clark replied, but before she could whack him with a pillow, he continued, "You couldn't possibly get any more beautiful than you are right now."

Lois snorted. "Yeah, yeah…go on, Mister. I've already agreed to marry you. You don't need to keep buttering me up," she joked as she nudged Clark playfully.

Clark grinned down at her. "But we're not officially married until tomorrow. I'm not taking any chances."

Lois laughed as she escorted him to the door, leaned forward, and gave him a quick kiss goodbye. "Night, Smallville."

"Night, Lois," Clark replied regretfully as he backed through the open doorway, not once taking his eyes off of her until the solid wooden panel of the door stood between them. For all Lois knew, he could have kept his eyes on her even after.

Just as she had on a night a few years before, Lois rested against the front door to the apartment for a moment, savoring the remnants of the warmth she always felt when she was with Clark. When she heard the sound of the outside door opening, however, she ran to the bedroom window to get one last glance of him as he left. As she stood and watched, he moved towards his car and unlocked the door. Before he got inside, however, he turned to look up at her through the window, a knowing smile on his face, and Lois couldn't resist the urge to respond with a grin of her own. Clark gazed up at her for a while before getting in his car and driving away, and it was only then that Lois pulled away from the window and headed for bed.

If Lois got any sleep that evening, it was a miracle. She kept trying to relax enough to fall asleep, but she just couldn't seem to manage it. Every time she was about to drift off, she'd start thinking about how she'd be getting married the next day, and she'd get so excited that there was no way she'd be getting to sleep until she calmed down again.

So when the alarm went off the next morning, Lois had a bit of difficulty crawling out of bed. She didn't have long to contemplate her exhaustion; she barely had time to gulp down one quick cup of coffee before she had to throw on some clothes and launch herself into the numerous preparations for the day. The wedding was going to take place outside, at Crater Lake, and a large tent had been set up there for her to use as a changing area. However, she still had to get her nails, hair, and makeup done in town, and she had it on good authority that these preparations could take a while.

When Chloe had accompanied her cousin to the salon earlier that week, they'd tried a series of different hairstyles to determine which would look best with Lois's strapless gown. They'd finally determined it looked best to have her hair pulled into a loose knot on the back of her head, with tendrils falling to frame her face. A few rhinestones, matching the ones adorning the bodice of her dress, would be threaded into her hair. For such a simple style, however, it took an absurd amount of time to achieve, and Lois almost groaned with relief when the stylist finally stepped back after securing the veil and declared her finished.

Then came the makeup and manicure, both of which Lois would have happily taken care of herself, but she'd finally caved to the wedding planner's insistence that it had to be done by professionals. Finally, after what felt like hours of being poked, prodded, and painted, it came time to head out to Crater Lake. She still had to get dressed, and it would no doubt take a while to get into her gown without mussing her hair or smudging her makeup. Glancing at her watch, Lois realized that the ceremony was scheduled to begin in a little under an hour. That was more than enough time to get ready and pose for some photographs, but she still shouldn't waste too much time.

Humming softly to herself, she jumped in her car and headed toward the lake. It was turning into a beautiful day. The sky was the blue of Clark's eyes. The breeze was as soft as his breath against her skin, and… "Okay, well, this train of thought clearly has to stop," Lois chastised herself as she shook her head gently. "You're getting married; you're not losing your mi –" She gasped and cut off in mid-sentence when something streaked across the roadway in front of her car. Her breath caught in her throat as she jerked the wheel to the left and slammed on the brakes.

For a moment, Lois couldn't move. She stared in the rear-view mirror, looking for the animal that she'd probably hit – and it had been an animal, Lois was certain of that. She'd only seen it for a few seconds, but she was pretty sure it had been a cat. Considering its small size, it was more likely a kitten. There wasn't anything in the road at the moment, but that didn't really put her mind at ease. Even if it wasn't lying dead it the road, it was still possible she'd critically wounded it and it had crawled off to find somewhere to die.

Murmuring a prayer under her breath, she killed the engine and stepped out of the car. She was going to have to track the little critter down and make sure it was okay; if she didn't, she'd be worrying about it for the rest of the afternoon. With a quick glance at her watch, Lois noticed that the ceremony was scheduled to begin in forty-five minutes. She had plenty of time.

She still had the problem of not knowing where the kitten had gone, but she didn't see any movement in the open field to her right. To her left, however, stood a partially constructed house – Smallville was expanding every year, believe it or not – and a construction site provided lots of places for a small animal to hide. Or curl up and die. No, she wouldn't think that way. The kitten was going to be fine. Everything she'd hit with her car had ended up okay; she wasn't about to break her streak now.

"Here, kitty!" Lois cried encouragingly as she walked onto the property and entered through what would one day be the front doorway. "You can come out; I won't hurt you. I'm a very nice person, I promise!" But her encouraging words were belied by the string of curses she muttered when she banged her leg hard on a stack of plywood.

Clutching her wounded shin, she cried, "Come on, kitty, please come out? _Please_?" Lois couldn't help the pleading note in her voice. She didn't have time to go rooting around in dark corners for a feline that may not even be injured, but her conscience wouldn't allow her to walk away until she knew the cat was unharmed. "That's it," she huffed to herself as she let go of her leg and scooted around some boards stacked up on the floor. "I'm never driving again." Just as she made this promise, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned just in time to see the cat dart through the wooden wall slats into another room.

The kitten didn't move like it had been critically wounded, but Lois followed it anyway. She'd only seen it for a brief moment, and it could have been limping. As she crossed into the other room, Lois lamented the numerous places that provided excellent cover for a small kitten. "Okay, kitty. You really need to come out now," she said matter-of-factly as she peered behind some sheets of drywall. "I have four hundred…okay, twenty…people waiting on me right now, and it just doesn't look good for a girl to show up late to her own wedding. Look, if you help me out and come out of hiding, I'll give you some nice tuna. I don't have any on me now, but I'll definitely owe you one."

The slippery little devil was eluding her easily, and Lois muttered another curse, looking at her watch again. She had a little over a half hour now. Time was sliding irrevocably into the past, and she was no closer to catching the kitten then she'd been ten minutes ago. Lois gathered up her veil and wrapped it around her left arm to prevent it from getting either dirty or snagged as she dropped to her knees and looked under the stand with a table saw on top. Still nothing. She peered behind a stack of pipes. No kitten. She even looked to see if it could be taking cover inside a box with some electrical wiring. Nothing.

Lois groaned and looked at her watch. Twenty-eight minutes. It would take her a good fifteen to get to the lake, maybe ten if she chose not to heed speed limits. Even if it only took her five minutes to get into her gown, that still only left eight to have her picture taken. She couldn't afford to waste any more time; she had to get going. With a frustrated scowl, Lois turned and headed for the exit, telling herself that if the kitten was this good at hiding from her, it was no doubt going to be fine. She also reminded herself how much she didn't want Clark to worry that something had happened to her. Still, she paused before she'd gone more than a dozen steps. She just couldn't leave now. Her conscience would plague her for the rest of the day if she did. She'd never been good at relying upon faith or assumptions for anything; she had to _know_. Sighing, Lois paused and considered her options. Twenty-seven minutes to go.

"Kitty!" she called in exasperation as she gazed around the room desperately once more. It wasn't behind the drywall or the toolbox; she couldn't find it anywhere. She glanced at her watch again. Twenty-six minutes.

With a heavy sigh, Lois admitted defeat and did something she really didn't want to do. "Superman!" she called as she made her way to the exit and went outside. There was no way she was going to make it in time on her own. If Clark came to help her, he could find the kitten and still get her to the ceremony with enough time to get changed and have the necessary pictures taken.

"Come on, Clark," she muttered to herself as she looked at her watch again. Twenty-five minutes. Then she thought about his earmuffs and groaned. What if he didn't hear her calling for him? "Why did I ask him to wear those stupid things?" she asked herself in frustration.

"I've been asking myself that all morning, actually," she heard Clark say from above her, and she tilted her head back to watch as he landed in front of her. He was still wearing the dorky earmuffs she'd bought him. With a bit of a smirk, he reminded her, "I told you…I have really good hearing."

The sight of Superman in fuzzy white earmuffs caused Lois to let out a shout of laughter, which she tried to stifle but couldn't. "Oh, Clark," she said softly. "Take those off. You look ridiculous!"

"I promised I wouldn't take them off before the ceremony," he said in an implacable tone as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her. "But I am going to get you back for this some day."

Lois snorted with laughter once again, but once she'd gotten hold of herself, she said a bit breathlessly, "Clark, as much as I would love for you to tell me what kind of revenge you have in mind, unfortunately, there isn't time right now. A kitten ran in front of my car while I was driving out to Crater Lake, and I thought I'd hit it so I followed it in here." She gestured to the house behind her. "Only now I can't find it, and I don't want to leave before I have. Even though I don't think I hit it, it could get seriously hurt in there."

She could tell he wanted to make some crack about her driving, but he somehow refrained from doing so and instead stared intently at the structure behind her. "I see it. Wait here; I'll be right back." It only took him seconds before he returned with a little black bundle meowing piteously in his arms. "I've looked her over; she's fine," he said as he passed the kitten to Lois, who gave it a reprimanding glare for all the trouble it had caused. "I can fly her out to the farm before the ceremony. I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind watching her until we get back from our honeymoon."

"Wait. What?" Lois said, taken aback by his plans. "I never said I was going to keep her!" she protested, though she didn't stop stroking the little furry ears as she did so.

"Why not?" he asked. "She's adorable! Plus, she's clearly more trouble than something her size should be. I think we should call her Lois," he deadpanned.

Lois looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "You know, Clark, one of these days, we really are going to have to talk about how you're not nearly as funny as you think you are."

Looking bemused, he asked, "If you say so, but isn't there some place you're supposed to be right now? You don't want to be late to your own wedding, do you?"

"It's not like they can start without me," she reminded him, as she threw him her sweetest smile.

Clark shook his head and gave a long-suffering sigh as he stepped forward and scooped her into his arms. "And you thought I was going to be the one causing trouble today."

Lois scowled and asked without much hope, "Is there any chance you're ever going to let me live this down?"

Clark grinned down at her as they rose into the air. "Not much of one, no."

With his help, she managed to get to the wedding in plenty of time. As Clark relieved her of the furry bundle in her arms, promising to take it back to the farm, Chloe and Mrs. Kent ushered Lois away and helped her get into her gown. To Lois's surprise, she wasn't chastised for her tardiness, and she idly wondered if she should be offended that neither Chloe nor Mrs. Kent even seemed particularly surprised that she'd been delayed

Though her arrival at the lake had instigated a flurry of activity as the three women rushed to maneuver the bride into her gown and pose for a series of photographs, Lois was allowed a quiet moment to herself before the ceremony began. Standing in front of the mirror, she wished she hadn't made it to the wedding with quite so much time to spare. As she considered her reflection, a sudden bout of nervousness struck, making her a bit queasy. She knew that Clark was the proverbial "One", that she'd never stop loving him. But what if she was absolutely horrendous at being married? When she'd first met Clark, she'd had the privilege of watching Mr. and Mrs. Kent interact on a day-to-day basis, and she'd come to believe that their relationship epitomized the way a marriage should be. However, Lois wasn't deluded enough to think she was anything like Mrs. Kent; she knew for a fact that there was no way that she could be that patient and understanding.

What if she blew it? What if Clark woke up tomorrow and saw the real her – all the horrible aspects of her personality that he _had_ to be ignoring up to this point, because there was no way that he would be willing to be tied to her for life if he actually saw them? What if he realized that he'd made a mistake? What if she messed everything up (as she had a tendency to do) and he regretted having married her?

Oh, god, this was a mistake. What was she _doing_? She didn't want things to change between her and Clark. Everything was perfect the way it was, why tempt fate? She should go out right now and tell Clark the wedding was off. He'd understand; she was sure he would understand. Wouldn't he?

Before she could bolt for the exit, however, she heard a noise behind her and turned to see that her cousin had just entered the tent. Chloe gave her a wry smile and said, "Well, it's good to see I haven't lost my touch for arriving just in time." At Lois's confused look, she explained, "I figured you'd be gearing up for a full-scale panic right about down, Lois. No matter what it is that you're thinking, you really don't want to go out there and call off your wedding."

Lois looked at her cousin in surprise. "How did you…?"

"Because I know you. Lois, you're the most confident, self-assured person I've ever known. That is, until it comes to Clark."

Lois scowled. "I'm not different when it comes to Clark! I always have a healthy dose of pragmatism, is all. I just can't help but wonder, what if he realizes that marrying me was a big mistake?" At Chloe's skeptical look, she continued, "Think about it, Chlo. He deserves someone with a modicum of patience. The ability to compromise. The willingness to occasionally admit that she might not always be right. Basically, he deserves the complete antithesis of me."

"Yes, well, as far as I can tell, he doesn't want any of those things. He seems to want someone who's stubborn and opinionated and never knows when to back down."

"Thanks. I love you too," Lois said sarcastically before turning to face the mirror again. Meeting her cousin's eyes in the reflection, she said morosely, "I'm just afraid that he doesn't know what he's getting himself into."

"Really? Because I think he knows exactly what he's doing," Chloe contradicted her. "He's not blind, you know, and you're not exactly adept at pretending to be something you're not. I mean, think about it, Lois. Can you think of anyone in the world who knows you better than he does?"

Lois looked down as she pondered that bit of truth, and when she met her cousin's eyes in the reflection again, she had a wry smile on her lips. "So you're saying I'm being pretty ridiculous, huh?"

"Pretty much, yes. But if it makes you feel any better, I saw Clark just before I came in here and he's just about as much of a nervous wreck as you are."

"Really?" Lois asked with a short disbelieving chuckle.

With raised eyebrows, Chloe responded, "He's so tense, any second now I think he's going to start levitating. I wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Kent has resorted to tethering him to one of the tables."

"Well, that would certainly be difficult to explain," Lois said humorously, glad that Chloe had effectively managed to diffuse the sudden bout of irrational anxiety. "Okay, so you're right. I was being an idiot," she conceded. After a brief pause, she said, "Let's just keep this between us, okay? I don't want Clark to misunderstand and think that I ever had second thoughts about marrying him."

Chloe smiled warmly at her. "Your secret dies with me. What are cousins for?"

Before Lois could respond, General Lane walked through the opening to the tent and said, "I thought you'd be here, Chloe. The wedding planner was looking for you; I think the ceremony's about to begin."

Lois grinned. "You'd better get out there, Chlo. I'd hate to imagine what she'll do if she thinks that her Matron of Honor's gone AWOL at the last minute."

Rolling her eyes, Chloe retorted caustically, "I'm surprised she didn't make us wear GPS trackers so she could follow our every movement." But even as she said this, she headed quickly for the exit. Apparently, Lois wasn't the only one cowed by the brusque woman.

"Don't give her any ideas!" Lois called after her with a laugh, but when Chloe had disappeared from view and the bride turned her attention back on her father, the smile she wore suddenly became a bit shakier than it had been a few moments before. "Hey, daddy," she said softly as she stepped closer to him.

"My Little Lo," her father said roughly as he looked down at her. His eyes looked suspiciously wet when he leaned down to kiss her cheek "You look beautiful, sweetheart. If only your mother could see you now."

Stifling the sudden urge to cry, she leaned forward to give her father a hug. "I love you, daddy." She didn't know where this sudden inability to contain her emotions came from, but before she found she couldn't resist the urge to indulge into an embarrassing scene, she heard the first strains of the wedding march begin to play. Smiling up at her father, she took his arm and asked, "You ready to do this, General?"

Though he looked like he'd be much more comfortable to be asked to storm a beach than to give his eldest daughter away at her wedding, General Lane nodded. "I knew I should have locked you in the brig when you were eight and never let you out," she heard him mutter darkly as they stepped out into the sunlight.

Lois couldn't help but laugh. She knew her father liked her fiancée and was genuinely happy that the two of them had found each other; he just hated to think that he was losing her. She opened her mouth to make a pithy reply, but then she caught sight of Clark and everything else melted away. She forgot about her earlier fleeting apprehension, forgot about the people sitting in chairs on either side of her, forgot everything but how much she loved the man waiting on her. All she could see was the look on his face, like she'd taken his breath away.

Lois may not have ever tried to picture her dream wedding, but she couldn't have ever imagined a more perfect day if she tried. The light filtering in through the leaves of the trees around them cast patterns on the people below as Lois walked down the aisle, and the faint mist that still hovered above the lake lent the atmosphere a fairly dreamlike aura.

When she reached Clark's side, she kissed her father's cheek gently and then turned to face the man she loved. With a bit of surprise, she realized that Chloe had been telling the truth – Clark truly did seem somewhat nervous. He kept looking at her as if he expected her to disappear at any moment. Whispering, Lois teased, "This is it, Smallville. Last chance to make a break for it." When her words were rewarded with one of his heart-stopping grins, she couldn't help responding in kind.

"You're not getting out of this one, Lois, at least not in the dress you're wearing. You make a pretty obvious target, and even if you did run away, I'm pretty sure I could catch you," he teased her in return.

Before they could continue with their affectionate bantering, the ceremony began. Lois barely listened to what he was saying. She just wanted to be married to Clark, and now that the moment she had been eagerly anticipating was upon her, she didn't really know that she had the patience to get through the elaborate dog and pony show to make their union official. Clark seemed to recognize her impatience and be amused by it, because he took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. As she held his hand in hers,Lois felt a slight trembling didn't know if it came from her or from Clark. His hands and voice were steady, however, when he said his vows and slipped on her wedding ring, and hers were likewise when she did the same.

Finally, the words she had been waiting for were spoken. "You may now kiss the bride."

Lois threw her arms around Clark's neck and whispered, "Too late, Smallville. You missed your chance."

"Yep. You're not getting away now," he said in return, and then he kissed her. She could barely restrain her shout of joy when she realized that it had finally happened; she and Clark were actually married! She didn't stop kissing her new husband until the soft sound of Chloe clearing her throat behind her caught her attention, and Lois turned to catch the significant glance her cousin was throwing the audience. With a sheepish grin, Lois pulled away and likewise turned toward her guests, beaming with joy as she and Clark stood together for the first time as man and wife.

After the ceremony, the group moved to a nearby pavilion that had been erected to house the reception. Though the ceremony had been small and intimate, she and Clark had left the reception open to just about anyone who wanted to come, and the citizens of Smallville had shown up en masse. Apparently, the rumor about small towns wasn't entirely fiction. Everybody seemed to know everybody else, and they all wanted to wish Lois and Clark their heartfelt congratulations on the wedding.

Dinner had been served, toasts had been given, and now Lois smiled as she moved around the party, stopping every so often to chat with her guests. Though she was enjoying herself, she couldn't help but wonder why she and Clark had thought having a large reception would be a good idea. She was more than ready to run (or, more accurately, fly) away with him to begin their honeymoon, but it didn't look like they'd ever get to leave at the rate things were going. Clark was on the other side of the pavilion, deeply engrossed in a conversation with Perry, and it wasn't as if she could sneak up next to him and steal him away. It seemed likely that somebody would notice the sudden absence of the bride and groom.

As she took a sip of her champagne and thought over the situation, a wicked idea suddenly struck Lois. There were certain hidden benefits to being married to Superman, after all. With a devilish gleam in her eyes, she said her husband's name softly, knowing he would hear her from across the room. When she thought she might have caught his attention, she continued, "Have I told you yet what I have planned for our honeymoon? Before we even get to our room, they're going to deliver champagne. And strawberries." She almost snorted into her champagne when she saw Clark's shoulders stiffen in reaction to her teasing; she definitely had his attention. Wanting to prolong the slow torture, Lois paused to speak briefly with a few guests, waiting until it looked as if Clark had relaxed again before she continued, "And chocolate." She almost laughed aloud when he jerked in surprise at her words.

"There's a Jacuzzi big enough for two in the room," she purred almost inaudibly, and she watched as Perry looked at Clark in concern; her husband's distraction was apparently being noticed, though Perry couldn't know the cause. Ruthlessly, Lois continued, telling Clark more about their honeymoon suite. The candles. The bed. The massage she had planned for him. Finally, she offered the coup de grace, "And have I told you that I bought something special to wear for you tonight? I'm wearing it right now, in fact. It's white. Lacy. Almost transparent." When Clark turned around to face her, however, she hissed, "Don't you dare!" She could tell that he was about to use his x-ray vision to look for himself, and she didn't want him to ruin her little game.

"I'm sorry, Lois?" the question came suddenly from her left. She whirled to see Mrs. Kent standing not five feet away, giving her what Lois could only describe as an entirely too knowing look. "Did you say something?" Martha prodded gently.

A blush creeping up her neck to her face, Lois felt her stomach sink with dread as she wondered if her particular brand of foreplay had been overheard. "Oh, hey, Mrs. Kent. It was…uh…my dress. It caught on something and I was…er….worried that it would tear." As she stammered out her unconvincing excuse, Lois glared at her fiancé…no, her husband; she could tell he was having a hard time hiding his amusement as the tables were turned on her.

Glancing at the hem of her dress, Martha responded, "You seem to be in luck. It looks perfectly fine to me." Lois breathed a deep sigh of relief when her mother-in-law stepped forward and enveloped her in a hug; perhaps she hadn't been overheard, after all. "I came over because I wanted to tell you how proud I am of the two of you," the older woman said, her voice just a little unsteady. Leaning back, she continued, "When Clark was growing up, I always hoped that someday he'd find the kind of love that the two of you share. I only wish Jonathan could see the people you both grew up to be." She paused and then said softly, "He loved you like a daughter, you know. And so do I."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kent. You don't know how much that means to me."Lois murmured, wishing she could find the words to tell the woman in front of her how much the affection and understanding she'd shown for the brash, feisty young girl Lois been had meant to her for all these years. Unable to put her emotions into words, she leaned forward to hug Clark's mother, who she'd long ago come to care for as her own.

"You know, sometimes I wonder if you actually agreed to marry me so you have an excuse to see my mom more often," Clark's voice interjected as the embrace ended. Though she hadn't heard him coming up beside her, Lois was grateful for his interruption, since it allowed her time to regain her composure. As he gently rested his hand on the small of her back, he said, "Not to mention her pie."

With feigned nonchalance, Lois replied, "Well, I did tell you once that the only thing cool about you was your mom. I never said I'd changed my mind."

Laughing, he kissed her and then stepped forward to enfold his mother in a hug, kissing her cheek. "It's getting late; Lois and I should probably head out soon. After I have one last dance with the beautiful bride," he said softly.

Martha nodded. "Of course." She smiled at the two of them, but before they moved away, she said, "Oh, and, Clark…it really isn't fair of you to use your x-ray powers on another person like that." The soft smile on her face took the sting out of the rebuke, however, and she there was definite amusement in her eyes as she watched the growing expressions of horror on the newlyweds' faces.

"Oh, God," Lois whimpered when the two of them were alone again. "She overheard me, didn't she? I'm never going to be able to show my face on the Kent Farm again!"

Looked as horrorstruck as she felt, Clark attempted to reassure her, but he wasn't entirely convincing when he said, "Nonsense. Just because she knew I was about to use my x-ray vision doesn't mean she necessarily overheard what you were saying. I mean, don't you always say I get a particular look on my face just when I'm about to –?"

Looking at him askance, Lois interrupted him, saying flatly, "You don't really believe that."

He shrugged awkwardly and muttered, "I can't say how much I'd like to." Lois groaned in response. "By the way, I wanted to say that it wasn't at all uncomfortable, having that particular image in my mind while talking to Perry. I want to thank you for that," he said dryly. As he spoke, Clark stole her glass of champagne, handing it to a passing waiter without taking his eyes off of her. "I may be scarred for life, did you know that?" he demanded sternly as he took her hand in his.

Lois laughed as he swept her out onto the makeshift dance floor. Their guests edged back and allowed the newlyweds room while the final bars of a song played softly over the speakers set up to one side. As she took a moment to kiss her husband, their last dance of the evening began to play.

_You ask how much I need you  
Must I explain?  
I need you, oh my darling  
Like roses need rain  
_

_You ask how long I'll love you  
I'll tell you true  
Until the twelfth of never  
I'll still be loving you._

Moving close to him, she caressed the back of his neck with one hand as she placed the other on his shoulder. She rested her cheek against his chest and sighed as, together, they moved along with the music. Once again, the rest of the world and everyone else at the reception might as well have disappeared for all Lois realized they were there.

_Hold me close  
Never let me go  
Hold me close  
Melt my heart like April snow_

_I'll love you till the bluebells  
Forget to bloom  
I'll love you till the clover  
Has lost its perfume_

Closing her eyes, she wanted to preserve this perfect moment forever. She never wanted to forget how she felt right now, or the way Clark could so easily steal her heart again and take her breath away, just by holding her in his arms like this. It was amazing to Lois that he didn't even seem to really realize the effect he had on her or that the little things he did made her fall in love with him all over again. Every single day.

_I'll love you till the poets  
Run out of rhyme  
Until the twelfth of never  
And that's a long, long time_

_Yes, that's a long, long time_

Pulling away slightly, Lois looked up to smile at her husband as the song ended. He looked so wistful, she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. "Penny for your thoughts," Lois offered as she brushed a soft kiss on his chin.

Gazing into her eyes, he asked, "Do you ever regret that we lost so many years? We spent so much time ignoring what was right in front of our faces…time we could have spent together if we'd only known."

Lois smiled softly as she reached up to sweep his hair off his forehead. "We didn't lose that time, Clark. We spent it learning how to love each other."

Clark looked at her almost ruefully. "I'm not sure that loving you is something I learned, Lois. It's like breathing…I couldn't keep myself from doing it, even if I wanted to. I just wish I'd realized the inevitability of it sooner."

She chuckled as she pursed her lips thoughtfully. Finally, she asked, "If I swear to love you for the rest of my life, would that be enough?"

"Not even remotely," he replied gravely.

Lois sighed heavily and said in exaggerated resignation, "Well then I suppose it's good that I can't help but love you forever."


	11. November

"Perry!" Lois barked as she stormed through the Daily Planet's newsroom and into the Editor in Chief's office. Pulling a tabloid out of her bag and waving it at him, she declared, "We need to do something about this!"

Peering at the paper as she thrust it forcefully under his nose, Perry frowned in confusion and asked, "The batboy living in the Metropolis Subway? I appreciate your enthusiasm, Lois, but I really don't think that's a job for the Daily Planet. If it bothers you that much, I suggest you call animal control. Or maybe the Gotham P.D."

"No!" she growled through gritted teeth as she turned the paper over and slapped it down on the desk in front of him. "This! Can you believe what they're printing?" With an angry gesture, she motioned to the headline: "I Had Superman's Love Child!" She didn't know why she'd felt compelled to buy the tabloid paper that morning, except that she hadn't had her daily quota of caffeine in her system when she'd caught sight of the headline while buying her morning cup of coffee. She should have known that reading it would only make her angrier – reading these articles always made her angrier, but she still couldn't help but fork over the extra dollar fifty as she stuffed it in her bag.

Perry leaned forward and took what Lois thought was an inordinate amount of time to peruse the article. Finally, he leaned back and looked at his star reporter over steepled fingers. "Okay, I'm a little confused here, Lois. I'm not entirely sure what you want us to do."

Throwing herself into a chair across from his desk, she declared, "I want us to ferret out this…Tilford woman and expose her as the liar she is!"

Smirking, he said, "Lois. It's a tabloid. I think you're putting too much stock in their credibility, don't you? Nobody really believes a word they print…which is almost a shame in this case, because apparently, Superman is quite the romancer. I never would have thought it of him."

Lois narrowed her eyes at her Editor in Chief. "Don't you get it, Perry? They print whatever they want because they can get away with it! Superman's certainly not going to step forward and call them a bunch of liars; he never comments on his personal life, if he has one, and he'd just assume that nobody would believe the story anyway!"

"Nobody will believe the story, Lois! I mean, come on." Pausing, he picked up the paper and scanned it. "Do you really think anybody's going to buy that he can do this," he paused, gesturing to a section of the article, "mid-flight? I don't think even he could manage it without dropping his partner."

She felt her face flush, and she definitely didn't share her editor's humor. "It just isn't fair that he works so hard to save the world every day, and this is the kind of thanks he gets! He wouldn't even stoop to thinking about half the stuff they've claimed he's done! I can't stand the thought of even one person believing this, let alone the not-inconsiderable readership of this rag." At the epithet, she gestured emphatically at the paper in question.

Perry sighed and the amusement left his face. "Okay, Lois. I understand what you're saying. But this is the Daily Planet. We don't do news reports on tabloid stories, and we would never get any real reporting done if we spent all of our time trying to discredit them. I can appreciate the way you feel about Superman, but the bottom line is that this is not an issue for the Planet to resolve. If Superman wants to discredit the report, I'm positive that no reporter in the world – myself included – would turn down the chance for a one-on-one interview to address the matter publicly. He's a hero, but he's also a celebrity. It's a disgusting fact of life but a fact of life nevertheless. When you put yourself in the public eye, you have to expect to be tied to this sort of nonsense. I'm sorry, but there's just no story here." Narrowing his eyes, he regarded her closely. "Unless there's something you know that you're just not telling me."

Lois forced herself to take a deep breath and swallow all of her remaining protests. If she pushed the issue, Perry might get suspicious. He may not have done fieldwork for several years, but his reporter's instinct was as sharp as ever. The last thing she or Clark needed was this man trying to ferret out any of the Man of Steel's secrets. With a sigh, she relented, "No. No, of course there isn't. I'm just – I don't know. I suppose I'm overreacting. It's just…you know how I get when it comes to him."

Nodding sagely, his voice softened as he said, "Of course. Everyone knows you've always been a little territorial when it comes to Superman. I remember the first time another reporter tried to nab an interview with him; I thought she was going to beg to go into witness protection, she was so afraid of you after that little 'talk' you gave her."

Lois sniffed. "It's not quite the same thing," she muttered as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Perry laughed. "Oh, of course not. Now, if you don't mind, I have some actual news stories to attend to." When she fixed him with a mulish look but didn't move towards the door, he gave her a stern look. "And I'm pretty sure you do too."

Lois sighed in resignation as she stood to leave. However, as she walked out, she said to her editor, "Okay, but I'm not finished with this, Perry."

As the door swung shut behind her, she could have sworn she heard him say, "No, I never imagined you were."

Though she was more than willing to fume over the tabloid for a while longer, there simply wasn't time. This was probably for the best, since there'd be no way for her to hide her descent into petty jealousy if she brooded on the subject. And she really didn't want Clark to know she was getting so worked up over something so absurd. Perry was right; these types of reports came out about celebrities all the time. She didn't want Clark to think that she couldn't handle the difficulties of being married to the man who was secretly Superman. Not when she'd promised him she could handle it.

With a frown, Lois glanced down at her watch as she headed towards her desk. Just because Perry said there wasn't a story there didn't mean she couldn't pursue it on her own time, but for the moment he was right; she and Clark had an interview scheduled, and she was going to be late if she didn't hurry. As much as she wanted to discredit the tabloid reporter, she had a story to complete. Pausing just long enough to make sure she grabbed everything she needed, Lois headed outside to hail a taxi.

On the way to the interview, she spared a moment to pray that her partner actually showed up as well. He'd had some things he'd had to take care of on the way to work that morning, but he'd promised to arrive on time. Though Lois was certain she'd have no problem handling the job on her own, she would prefer to have Clark there, just in case there was a sudden need for him to use any of his special abilities.

When she stepped out of the cab, however, she relaxed when she caught sight of Clark as he jogged towards her. "Everything okay?" she murmured as she straightened his tie and took his hand.

"Bank robbery in Blüdhaven and a school bus stalled out over railroad tracks in Charleston. Nothing I couldn't handle," he assured her as he leaned down to kiss her in greeting.

As usual, Lois felt so proud when she thought about the ways her husband could and did help people every day. Today, however, she also felt irritation as the reminder of his secret life recalled the tabloid report from that morning. She knew some of her conflicting emotions must have shown on her face when Clark looked at her with concern and asked, "Hey, what's wrong?"

Forcefully putting the thought out of her mind, she plastered a smile on her face and prevaricated, "Wrong? I don't know what you mean. Just getting ready for the interview. Now, come on. We're going to be late."

The woman they were to meet, Eleanor Gibson, turned out to be a very attractive blonde woman in her late twenties or early thirties, with a look on her face that said she clearly wasn't happy about being forced to speak with reporters. Lois was prepared to deal with recalcitrance, but Eleanor seemed to change her mind about the situation, however, as she watched Clark walk towards her. A blind woman would have noticed the pretty blonde's interest and speculation as she gazed at Clark – she had a look on her face as if she'd just been told that Christmas was coming early this year. Biting back a frown as she slung her bag over her shoulder, Lois strode up and said confidently, "Ms. Gibson? I want to thank you for taking the time to meet with us. I'm Lois Lane-Kent, and this is my partner, Clark Kent."

Lois watched as Eleanor's eyes flickered to Clark's ring finger and noticed the lack of a band. "Nice to meet you. That's a pretty big coincidence, isn't it? That the two of you have the same last name, I mean." Though she was smiling, it was clear she was fishing for information.

Lois's smile was a fraction too wide as she responded, "Not much of a coincidence at all, really." Her eyes narrowed as she took in Eleanor's reaction, and it was a good thing that the speculative look morphed into palpable disappointment. If it hadn't, Lois might have failed to suppress the urge to smack the interest right off her beautiful face. Lois normally wasn't so territorial; she knew other women noticed Clark's good looks, and it usually didn't bother her. After all, she knew more than anyone how much her husband warranted a second look, and she also knew Clark only had eyes for her. Still, she was beginning to wonder if there was a single person on the planet who wasn't fantasizing about getting their hands on her husband.

She didn't have long to fume, however. The three of them had just settled in for the interview when Clark got that far-off look in his eye that Lois recognized only too well. Before he could scramble to find some halfway plausible excuse for his inevitable disappearance, she jumped in to rescue him. Left to his own devices, Lois knew from personal experience that he was far too likely to come up with some lame excuse – like a sudden irrepressible need to salvage perishable dairy products.

Hoping Ms. Gibson hadn't noticed her getting out of the cab earlier, she said, "Um….Clark, honey? You know, I think I forgot to put change in the parking meter. Would you mind running out to check? I'd hate for us to get a ticket." She smiled in response to his grateful look and then waited until he'd left to turn her attention back on her companion. Eleanor looked distinctly displeased to be left with only her company. Throwing her a sheepish smile, Lois asked, "Don't you just hate it when you do something stupid like that?" Actually, Lois hated having to pretend to have done such a harebrained thing, but she consoled herself that it was for the greater good.

With a slight disdainful sniff, Eleanor replied, "I wouldn't know. I don't usually forget things. It must be terribly inconvenient for you that you do."

Okay, that was it. Clark had better return soon, Lois resolved, because she was about to wipe the floor with pretty Ms. Gibson.

Thankfully, Clark did manage to return before Lois gave in to the temptation to do anything that would result in her being brought up on charges, and the interview went, if not smoothly, then as well as could be expected. As anticipated, Eleanor had been reluctant to divulge any information to the reporters, but, thanks to a little Super help, Lois and Clark managed to leave with one of her boss's notebooks in their custody. With any luck, it would contain some incriminating evidence.

Unfortunately, the notebook was written in a scribbled shorthand that didn't make any sense, so the two of them spent a good portion of the rest of the afternoon trying to crack the code. After many tedious hours, they still hadn't managed to make much progress, but it was getting late, so they decided to take the notebook home and continue the work after dinner.

Feeling slightly drained but exuberant to be so close to solving the mystery, Lois accompanied Clark back to their apartment. She was fairly itching to get back to the puzzle, but it was Friday night and, thus, date night. Since before they'd gotten married, she and Clark had reserved Friday nights to spend together in whatever way they saw fit. The only rule was that work was not allowed to interfere; it was a ritual Lois had eagerly anticipated every week since its inception, and that excitement hadn't diminished just because they had exchanged vows. In fact, since they had only been married a month, they were still indulging in their post-honeymoon euphoric period and so they were both reluctant to let anything get in the way of any private time they could grab together.

So, once they had changed out of their work clothes, she and Clark headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Lois's cooking hadn't much improved in the past ten years or so, but she always tried, at least, to contribute to the process of preparing their meals. It had to be said that Clark was kind enough to always choke down a little of everything she made, even when it had been subject to some sort of disaster. That night in particular, however, they had decided on spaghetti, and even Lois could manage to boil water without incident. So, with much teasing on either side, they negotiated the confines of the tiny kitchen as they cooked together.

The mood stayed lighthearted, in fact, until shortly after they sat down to eat. It was only then that Clark cleared his throat and asked, "So, Lois…when are you going to tell me what's been bothering you today?"

Pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth, she gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"You've been…I don't know…you've seemed distracted today. Like something's irritating you. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I thought maybe there was something wrong."

A slight frown furled her brow as Lois laid down her fork and put her hands in her lap. She tried to think of what to tell him; she should have known he'd have picked up on her emotions, but she was still reluctant to talk to him about her reaction to the tabloid. It was just such a stupid little thing, and she was ashamed to admit that it was even bothering her. Particularly since she'd decided that Perry was probably right; it really was highly unlikely that anybody would really believe that piece of garbage. Still, even thinking about it caused her to tense up, and she had to force her hands to unclench from the fists they had unconsciously formed in her lap.

Clearing her throat, she said softly, "It's nothing, really. I've just been…Oh, no. What is it now?" She couldn't quite keep the frustration out of her voice as she asked this. There it was again. That Look.

Regretfully, Clark replied, "I'm sorry, Lois. There's a fire alarm going off nearby. I have to go see if anybody needs any help. Look, can we talk about this when I get back? It's not that I –"

"No, no. I understand. You have to do what you have to do. Go on; I'll be here when you get back." Lois reassured him, but she sighed as she watched him speed into his Superman outfit and fly out the window. It seemed that, yet again, she would be eating dinner alone.

Clark wasn't back before she finished her meal, and Lois tried not to feel too disappointed. It really wasn't his fault that date night was ruined. He'd had to go to offer whatever help he could; of course he did, and Lois understood that. She even loved him for it. And it wasn't like he could ask the world to take care of itself from eight to midnight on Friday nights. Most of the calls of help he responded to were due to a life-and-death situation, and how could Lois selfishly ask him to ignore even one of them, to let someone die, just so she could spend time with him? How could she get mad at him for being unable to do so?

But, still, as she put his plate in the microwave to be reheated upon his return, Lois knew that the small, selfish part of her wished she didn't always have to fly off. It wasn't that she wanted someone to die. She just wanted her husband's company. Perhaps luckily, it seemed she would have plenty of time to get her wayward emotions under control before he returned. Of all the admissions she'd do anything to keep to herself, this particular one was probably the worst. There was no way she could admit to him that she sometimes wished he didn't always have to leave her.

In an attempt to put these terrible thoughts out of her mind, Lois curled up on one of the seats in the living room and pulled the doctor's notebook out of her bag. Date night clearly wasn't going to be salvageable; she might as well try to get some work done. After what seemed like hours of staring at the incomprehensible scribbles, she must have drifted off to sleep because she didn't register Clark's return. However, her eyes fluttered open when she felt him scoop her into his arms to carry her into the bedroom.

"Clark? I was…waiting up for you," she murmured around a wide yawn.

With a grin, he replied, "I can see that."

He put her gently upon the bed, and she reached for her pajamas as she said, "I put your dinner in the microwave. Do you want me to heat it up for you?"

"No, it's okay. I'm actually not very hungry." He started to change into his nightclothes, but he paused and looked at her for a long moment. "Lois, I'm really sorry I ruined our night together. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

He looked so apologetic, she couldn't have been mad at him if she wanted to be. "Don't worry about it. I understand. Did everything go okay?"

"About three buildings were destroyed the fire, but luckily nobody was hurt. Did you get anywhere with the notebook tonight?" As he spoke, Clark crawled into bed next to her and wrapped his arms her as she pulled the blankets over the two of them.

Around another yawn, Lois replied, "Yes. I've decided Dr. Kellerman is a paranoid crackpot who should have made our lives easier by writing in plain English. His stupid code is giving me a headache."

Clark chuckled in her ear. "Don't worry about it. We'll work on it more tomorrow. We'll get it figured out."

"Mmmm…" she moaned in agreement as she snuggled close to him. "Night, Clark. Love you."

As she drifted off to sleep, she heard him reply, "I love you too, Lois."

A few hours later, Lois murmured her husband's name into the darkness as she reached for him. When she felt nothing but air, however, she rolled over with a groan and glared at the bedside clock. 4:30 in the morning; he was no doubt flying around answering cries for help. Again. Wishing she could just roll over and go back to sleep, she sighed and readjusted her position so she would be more comfortable as she stared up through the darkness towards the ceiling. It didn't matter how much she wanted to go back to sleep; she knew from experience that she wouldn't be able to do so until he returned home.

She didn't have long to wait before she heard the soft sound of Clark's footsteps on the floorboards outside their bedroom door. Rolling back on her side, she closed her eyes tight and slowed her breathing, feigning sleep. Lois always did this when she woke up in the middle of the night to find him gone. She didn't want him to feel bad, knowing she'd lain awake in anticipation of his return. While she was aware that he had to know she was only pretending, he never called her on her act.

Holding her breath, she waited to see what he'd do when he climbed into bed with her. Since finding out his secret, she had come to realize that Superman's evenings tended to fall into three categories, and Lois could tell just what kind of night it had been simply by the way Clark got back into bed.

Some evenings, he would return to the apartment, wrap his arms around her to pull her close, and fall quickly to sleep. When he did that, she knew the call had not been for a major emergency, and everything was fine. If he returned and lay in silence for a while before finally pulling her into his arms and drifting off to sleep, she knew things had not gone quite so easily for him, and he was going over the events in his mind as he tried to decide what he would do differently the next time.

There were rare nights, however, when he would return to bed and turn away from her, refusing the comfort of her touch. Those nights were another matter entirely. On those evenings, Lois never went back to sleep. She would lay there in silence and try to reach out to the man in bed beside her. She would keep on reaching, however, because even though he was right beside her, on those nights, he wasn't really there at all.

She never felt quite as useless as she did when this Clark returned to her. As he did now. He wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't tell her what was the matter. But neither would he allow her to hold him; in fact, he flinched away from her touch as if it hurt him to receive the comfort she offered.

"Clark?" Lois whispered as she tried to move closer to him, but, just as she knew he would, he pulled away from her. "Honey, what happened?"

After a moment's silence, he responded dully, "Nothing, Lois. Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."

Raising up on one arm, she bit her lower lip as she reached out to rest her palm on his shoulder, but as soon as she touched him, he jerked away from her and sat up. "Clark, I wish you'd – " she began, but he clearly wasn't listening to her.

"You know, I'm not really tired. I'm going to sit up for a while. Why don't you go back to sleep?" Then, without even looking at her, he left the room.

Lois hated nights like this. She hated that she felt useless in these situations. She hated that he was obviously hurting but wouldn't let her in. She hated that she couldn't take his pain away.

She lay in bed for a while, trying to decide what to do next. Should she follow him into the other room and press him for information, or should she leave it alone and hope he opened up to her in his own time? She'd seen him closed off like this before, but this seemed somehow worse.

Well, whatever it was she was going to do wasn't going to be from bed. Slowly, she got up and, after a moment wasted in indecision, she strode into the living room.

Clark was standing by the patio door, gazing out upon the city lights. He didn't turn when she walked up behind him; in fact, he gave absolutely no indication that he'd registered her presence at all.

"Clark?" When she said his name, her voice was soft, almost uncertain.

He didn't turn to her as he replied, "I'm fine, Lois. I just…I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?"

Lois sighed. "Okay. Just…I'm here for you, okay? If you decide you want to talk about it."

The next couple of hours were spent in a tense silence as Lois tried hard not to push for answers. She'd hoped he would open up to her, given time, but if his attitude was any indication, he had no intention of ever telling her what was wrong. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. Slamming her mug down on the table hard enough for the coffee to slosh over the sides, she declared, "That's it, Clark. I can't do this any longer."

His face was impassive as he muttered softly, "Well, that took longer than I thought it would."

She watched as he stood and walked away from her, but she was resolved not to let him off so easily. She could ignore the issue, hope he eventually opened up to her. Hope his problem went away. But she was never good at knowing when to stop pushing, and, at any rate, she doubted that this would have been the right time. So, taking a few deep breaths, she slowly counted down from five as she tried to think of the best way to approach the subject. She wanted answers, but she had to be careful how she went about it. If she was too argumentative and put him on the defensive, they'd never get anywhere.

5\. "Damn it, Clark! Talk to me!" On second thought, that was probably not the most tactful way to go about it.

4\. "So, you're just going to keep this to yourself forever, is that it?" No, as much as she excelled at the occasional sarcastic barb, now was definitely not the time.

3\. "Clark, I hate it when you won't let me help you. You really need to talk to me." She was having better luck finding a reasonable tone, but that still wasn't quite right.

2\. "I know something's the matter. I wish you'd tell me what it is." Lois sighed and rose to her feet. She walked up behind Clark and tentatively put out a hand to rest it on his shoulder.

1.

"Please don't shut me out," she said softly.

She felt him tense, and shifted uncomfortably under her touch. She gently turned him around to face her, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. "I told you, Lois. It's nothing," he said softly when she gazed searchingly into his face.

A long silence stretched between them until he met her gaze, and then she said, "Clark, I know something's bothering you. I wish you'd tell me what it is." He still didn't respond, so, taking a deep breath, she tried again. "I know you're used to having to deal with your own problems. I know you feel like you're alone, like you have to protect everyone around you. Including me. But you're not alone anymore. You have me, and I love you. If there's something wrong, then you really need to talk to me."

He sighed and reached up to run his fingers through his hair. Finally, he said, "Lois, I appreciate your concern, but I really don't want to talk about this."

"Well, maybe you need to," she replied.

"Or maybe I know what I'm doing, and I need for both of us to forget about it," he contradicted, sounding a bit irritated with her.

"So you're just going to keep this to yourself forever, is that it?" she demanded. She was trying to be understanding, but his constant refusal to talk to her was making her lose what little grasp on her temper she'd managed to retain.

Clark sighed and said through gritted teeth, "I'm not keeping anything from you, Lois. I'm just not in the mood to talk."

"You're brooding again, and you know that drives me crazy," she contradicted.

"If it bothers you so much, why don't you go back to bed?" he demanded in return.

Lois would have taken a moment to wave goodbye to the vestiges of her temper, but she was too busy losing it. "Damn it, Clark! Talk to me!"

Breaking out of her grip, he said fiercely, "It doesn't concern you, Lois! Leave it alone!"

"If it concerns you, it concerns me," she contradicted in the same tone.

"I don't want to share this with you, okay? And you don't really want to know about it, so why don't we just leave it alone? For once, can't you just walk away from something?"

Setting her jaw, Lois nodded. "Yes, of course I can. Just not you. Not when it's so obvious that you need to talk."

Clark began to pace back and forth as he demanded, "And you always know what's best, is that it? Because there's absolutely no way you could be wrong about something."

"Clark, I'm not wrong about this. Whatever happened, I can tell that it's eating you up inside. I want to help you, if you'll let me."

He stopped and stared at her for a long moment, but his voice was soft when he replied, "You can't help me, Lois."

"How do you know that, Clark, unless you talk to me?" she asked. "I love you. I know that whatever happened, it had to have been terrible. I know you're only trying to protect me. But you can't do that. If there's something bothering you then we need to talk about it."

"So you always talk about everything, is that it? Because it seems to me like something's been bothering you for a while now, and you haven't exactly been forthcoming."

"It's not exactly the same thing," she told him as she shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his regard.

Giving her a sardonic look, he asked, "Oh, yeah? And how is it different, exactly?" She started to try to make excuses, but he cut her off. "'If it's important enough that it bothers you, it's important enough for me to know about it.' Isn't that what you always say? But clearly you don't have any problem making a distinction between what I need to know and what I don't, and I'm just asking you to suspend the belief that I am capable of making that same judgment call."

Lois scowled. This was absurd. There was no way that the slight difficulties she was having in adjusting to married life with Superman were even on the same scale as whatever it was that he was that was tearing him up inside. Plus, any admissions she made about her feelings were bound to cost her a significant amount of dignity. Not to mention, she really didn't want him to think that she wished she could change things between them, or that she felt incapable of rising to the challenges that had arisen.

She had promised him that she could handle his other life, and she didn't want to make him think she'd been wrong.

But, as she met his eyes, she winced, realizing he had a point. The things bothering her clearly weren't going to go away. In fact, the situation only seemed to grow worse as each day passed. What had once only been a minor irritant – having to hide her feelings for Superman and deny any urge to come to his defense when it came to things she shouldn't know about the man in blue – had now escalated to the point where she could have accidentally blown Clark's secret to Perry over a stupid tabloid report. She could hardly tell him he had to discuss his problems while she kept hers to herself. It was a double standard, and if there was one thing she refused to be, it was a hypocrite. Though she sometimes wished she didn't have such high standards for herself.

With a groan, Lois swallowed her pride, threw her dignity away with both hands, and admitted, "Okay. You're right. There is something that's bothering me. It's been bothering me since we got back from our honeymoon. Well, okay, actually since before then. I guess it's been building since I found out about your secret, in fact, and I was too embarrassed to tell you about it."

He looked at her expectantly, but she could see the beginnings of a worried frown cross his face. Well, she had to admit that she had just given him a pretty vague lead-in into the topic, and his mind was no doubt moments away from jumping to the worst conclusions. She wanted to rush to reassure him that it wasn't as bad as he thought, but she didn't really know how to continue her confession. Especially since she knew that, in the grander scheme of things, her problems were minor, comparatively speaking. At a loss for what to say next, she bit her lower lip, her gaze not meeting his. Then, taking a deep breath, Lois stepped closer to Clark and reached out to run her fingers along the length of the chain around his neck until she came to the circular object that dangled over his heart. "I wish you could wear your wedding band," she murmured softly as she traced the curve of the ring with her fingertips.

She could tell that Clark was surprised by her admission as a long silence stretched between them. Finally, he covered her hand with his own, he and said in slight confusion and soft regret, "You know I can't risk it, Lois. What if I forget to take it off again and someone notices that Superman is wearing a wedding ring? It could lead to too many questions, and I just can't afford to take the chance of accidentally exposing my relationship with you. Do you know how many people out there would love to get their hands on Superman's wife?"

With a small sigh and an accompanying shrug, she replied, "I know. That doesn't mean I don't hate it that you can't."

"It's always right here, Lois. Always by my heart. I never take it off, and I never will." He moved to bring her closer, but she pulled away from him.

"It's just…I hate this, Clark. I haven't known about your secret for too long, and I've been married to you for even less time, and there's already so many things that I'm don't know how to deal with. I hate passing supermarket tabloids and seeing the lies they make up about you, and I especially hate that I can't even defend you against the attacks on the off chance that someone puts two and two together! I thought I could handle it; that as long as I these things didn't bother you, I could refrain from always rushing to your defense. But I don't know how I can really do that. I'm not exactly the best at keeping my opinions to myself, and you aren't just some random friend of mine! You're my husband, and I want…I don't know…I just want things to be different, I suppose," she finished lamely.

With a sigh, Clark rested his hand on her shoulder as he responded, "I know this is hard for you, Lois, and I'm sorry that you have to deal with any of this. But there's not much I can do about it. Every once and a while, a tabloid will decide to do a story and the rumors will start. But they do pass as soon as a more interesting story comes along. I know you want me to come out and publicly refute the tabloid reports, but I can't afford to open the door to Superman's personal life. I can't risk people even thinking that Superman has a personal life."

"And I understand that, Clark," she replied quickly. "I understand completely, in fact. I don't want our relationship to be spotlighted. I don't want to out you on national television. But, at the same time, you have to appreciate that it isn't easy for me to stand idly by while people say all sorts of terrible things about you. Just this morning, I read a story this tabloid printed about…about a love child some woman has supposedly hand with Superman, and I just…I lost it. I wanted to break out every gun in the Daily Planet's arsenal to bring both the tabloid and that woman down. Hell, I was willing to call in the Marines if that's what it would take to obliterate them for even having dared to print such garbage."

Gazing at her for a long moment, he finally asked, "You don't believe the stories, do you?"

Lois snorted. "I'll believe in the batboys living in the sewers before I believe that you'd do something like that. But you have to understand, it's hard for me to read stories like that when...um…" She broke off, her face flushing. Well, there was a confession she hadn't been planning to make. "It's not important. But, anyway –" She rushed to change the subject, turning away from him so he wouldn't see the look on her face.

It seemed he wasn't going to let her get away with it, however, as he grabbed her hand and tugged on it gently until she stopped to look at him again. Her eyes were burning, and she closed her eyes as she took a few deep breaths to try to remain calm. "Lois. Honey…what is it you were going to say?" he asked as he gently stroked her cheek.

Lois clamped her teeth down hard on the lower lip that had begun to tremble, but she knew he wasn't fooled by her indifferent façade. Her gaze meeting his again, she admitted, "I wanted to destroy that woman for claiming to have had a child with you when I know…I know that it's something I might not be able to do." The look of pain on his face at her confession mirrored her own, and she continued softly, "I know that you're right. We can't afford to do anything about the fact that there will always be stories about Superman. It's just that there are so many things that come with the territory that I just never anticipated. I never realized how many stories would be written about you, or how much speculation there would be about your personal life. I never realized how much they would hurt, or how many nights I'd spend alone."

Clark began, "Lois, I–"

Before he could apologize for something he couldn't help, Lois shook her head. There was no point in the two of them brooding over something neither of them could change. "No, sweetheart, I know. You hear every cry for help, and you can't ignore them any more than you could stop breathing. And I really do love you for it, and I'm proud of you for everything that you do. The problem is that I'm selfish, and I have to admit to the fact that I hate it that I always have to let you go. I'm trying to get over it. I am. I'll come to terms with all of these things eventually, but it's just not going to be as easy as I once hoped it would be."

Clark wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, but he didn't say anything. Really, what was there to say? After all, she was right. The situation wasn't going to change any time soon. Clark would always be Superman, and that meant that there were just things the two of them were going to have to come to terms with.

As the silence stretched between them, Lois pulled back slightly and looked up into Clark's face. "Please tell me what's been bothering you tonight, Clark." He looked ready to protest again, so she said, "Don't you see? You can't protect me, and I don't want you to. Even if you don't think there's any way I can help, I want to be here for you. And I can't do that if you won't talk to me."

So finally, though he released her and turned to stare out over the lights of the city once more, he finally told her what had been bothering him. "I couldn't sleep tonight," he confessed, "but I didn't want to disturb you, so I thought I'd go out flying for a while. I…I don't know how long I was out, but I was up pretty high, where it's a little bit more peaceful, and I don't have to hear everything around me. I suppose…I must have floated halfway around the world, and I wasn't…I was just flying. And then I heard someone crying. I don't know how I picked up on the sound; she was so quiet. Maybe it was because she was out in the middle of nowhere, and there weren't any major cities around to drown her out.

"Anyway, it was such a heartbreaking sound, I…I flew down to see what –" He broke off and took a ragged breath as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Lois wished she could take him into her arms, but she knew he wasn't ready to be comforted, at least not yet. He had to get the story out, but he had a tenuous hold on his composure, and she could tell he was trying very hard not to let that go. So, instead of doing all the things she wanted to do, she stepped forward until she was standing next to him, gazing out at the lights of the city by his side as she let his words wash over her.

Swallowing heavily, he continued, "It was a girl. She looked young, younger than she had to have been, at least. She was…she was holding this little bundle in her arms, and I thought it was just a balled up blanket at first. But then, when she looked up at me, I could see…it was a baby. I don't know how old. Maybe not even four months. She was beautiful, this perfect little baby the girl had in her arms. But then I realized she was dead."

For the first time since he'd begun his story, Clark turned to look at her. "I asked her what had happened, and she admitted that she did it. She killed her little girl." Lois hadn't been expecting that, and her surprise must have shown on her face, because he grimaced. "I was so angry when she told me what she'd done. I wanted…I wanted to kill her. I thought for a minute I might. But then she…" He paused again. "The girl told me she was dying. She'd just found out, earlier that day. She was sick, and she was going to die soon, and there wasn't anything anybody could do about it. Not me, not the doctors. Not anybody.

"She killed her baby because there wasn't anybody else to look after her daughter once she was dead. She didn't want her baby to be put in an orphanage, where she would starve to death or…or worse. She said she'd known so many children who had been taken away after their parents had died of sickness, and she said the stories always ended the same. And she couldn't let all of those terrible things happen to the baby she loved, so she took her to a nearby river and drowned her instead."

As he finished his story, Clark's eyes bored into hers. Very softly, he asked, "So, was it worth it, Lois? Are you happy I told you any of that? Is it a story you want to carry with you? Can you make me feel better?"

The stark pain on his face, the darkness behind his eyes as he recalled the story, tore at Lois's heart, and she shook her head slowly. Though he moved as if he were going to pull away from her, she wrapped her arms around him and held him in silence until some of his tension eased. "No, Clark. I can't make you feel better, and I can't take that memory away from you," she told him softly.

Lois tilted her head to stare out over the lights of the city as she felt her husband tremble in her arms. Hearing his story tonight had shamed her when she realized that her problems were petty by comparison. But they also reminded her why she loved this man so much. He tried so hard to be the world's savior, and he grieved for every person who slipped between his fingers. It didn't matter how many people he rescued; he never forgot the people he couldn't, and Lois knew their memories haunted him.

Today, and for many other days since she had learned Clark's secret, she had felt the burden of keeping Superman's secret. She loved him, but she had to keep him at a distance – at least publicly. At times, this made her feel like a small and rather insignificant part of that aspect of his life. Tonight, however, she was reminded that all of the sacrifices she made to be with him were for a reason. Whether or not the world saw him for the incredible man he was, she did, and that's what was important. And, as much as she sometimes couldn't believe that someone like Clark could need someone as relatively inconsequential as Lois Lane, the fact of the matter was, tonight, he did. He needed her, and she would gladly sacrifice anything in the world if it meant she could be there for him at the end of the day.

Pulling away from him only so far that she could look into his face, she said softly, "I can't take away your pain. I can only share it and hope that's enough."


	12. December

"Clark Kent, I'm going to kill you!" Lois shrieked as ice-cold water trickled down the back of her shirt, chilling her skin. She'd been walking up to the front door of the apartment she shared with her husband when a snowball came out of the blue and caught her on the back of the head. When she'd turned to peer through the hazy light of dusk to determine who had thrown the offending object, she caught sight of her husband smirking at her.

Her soon-to-be-annihilated husband. Nobody picked a fight with Lois Lane and walked away unscathed.

Clark laughed at the indignant expression on her face and lobbed another snowball at her. This one caught her in the middle of her chest, and his smirk grew wider. "Is that so?" he taunted her, completely disregarding her threat.

"Oh, it's on, farmboy!" Lois called as she darted towards a car parked on the street. Using it as cover, she crouched low to the ground and scooped up snow in both her hands, packing it together as quickly as she could. Placing it aside, she made a few more as she peeked over the hood of the car. Clark was taking cover behind a tree, and his pile of ammunition was greater than hers. The cheater. "You gonna fight fair, Smallville?"

"Probably not!" he called back, and Lois chuckled. She knew he wasn't such a spoilsport that he'd use his powers to evade her hits, and it wasn't like she intended to fight fair herself.

Clutching one of the snowballs from her arsenal in her right hand, Lois held her breath and waited for Clark to look around the side of the tree before she struck. Lobbing her icy missile towards him, she laughed when it clipped his shoulder. Not bad, though she'd been going for the face.

Clark gave her an affronted look, and the fight began in earnest. Lois was laughing so hard that she was having a hard time restocking her diminishing supply of ammunition, and she realized that if she didn't do something soon, he was going to wipe the floor with her. Finally, she gave up the effort and charged towards him. What she'd lack in style she'd make up for in enthusiasm. No longer bothering to take the time to make actual snowballs, the fight degenerated into handfuls of snow thrown half-hazardly in each other's direction. The wet snow had long ago soaked through the opening in her coat and into her skin, but Lois didn't really notice the chill. She was about to attempt a full-frontal attack when she paused to duck a handful of snow thrown in her direction, slipped on a patch of ice, and fell to her knees.

Clark took advantage of the opportunity and tackled her around the waist, taking them both to the ground. He had her pinned, the heavy weight of his body stopping her from retaliating, and Lois let out a whoop of laughter.

"Give up?" he asked tauntingly.

"Not on your life," she retorted.

With raised eyebrows, he asked, "So what do you plan to do? I'm up here, and you're down there, and I think makes me the pretty clear winner. And I think I shouldn't let you up until you admit it too."

Lois glared up at him, but the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth belied her fierce expression. Blowing out a heavy sigh of disappointment, she said mournfully, "Typical. I should have known you'd equate winning with being on top."

She heard Clark's surprised snort of laughter only a few seconds before his hands managed to dive between the folds of her coat to attack her through the sweater she wore underneath. "Okay, Mrs. Kent, I'm afraid you're going to have to pay for that one!" he cried, but his words were almost drowned out by her shrieks of laughter at his tickling.

"I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!" she managed to get enough air to profess loudly, and so he mercifully stopped tickling her, though he still didn't let her up. Breathing heavily, Lois scowled and decided to change tactics, playing upon his sympathy. "Ooof. Do you mind shifting positions at least? I'm kinda losing the ability to breathe, here."

"Liar," Clark contradicted her with a grin, but she caught the slight move he made to ensure that she really wasn't in danger of suffocation. Sadly, it still wasn't enough to allow her to get the upper hand. That was the problem with her relationship with Clark, she reflected; he knew her well enough to anticipate her most devious moves. He continued, "You just don't want to admit you lost."

"I didn't lose!" she retorted as she renewed her efforts to squirm out from under him.

"It looks that way to me!" he said tauntingly in return, not giving an inch. "And, believe me, I can wait here however long it takes until you admit it. Have I said how beautiful you look with snowflakes in your hair? I could happily stay here and look at you all night." He leaned down suddenly and brushed a kiss across her cheek. When he pulled away once more and saw the look on her face, he explained, "Snowflake."

"Fine, fine. I give up," she said in resignation, though she couldn't quite make her words come out with the inflection she was going for. When he looked at her the way he was now, she had a hard time even pretending to be surly.

"Promise?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously.

"Promise," she replied, but the moment Clark started to let her up, she grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it down the front of his shirt. It was the least he deserved; after all, it's not like the cold even affected him.

Of course, her kamikaze attack did nothing to end the snowball fight, and they continued the assault long after the last of the evening light had faded from the sky.

They called a truce only once it got so dark that it was hard to see and the temperature dropped until Lois was shivering. Still laughing, Clark escorted her inside, and she ran to change while he prepared her a cup of hot chocolate (complete with the mini marshmallows that she loved so much).

When Lois had finished drying off and had comfortably nestled on the couch within the folds of the huge down comforter she'd pilfered from their bed, she threw her legs over Clark's lap and burrowed farther into the blankets. Completely relaxed, she gazed thoughtfully into the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace, her reflections only interrupted when Clark cleared his throat.

"I know it's late, but I couldn't get this ready in time to give you it sooner. So now's a good a time as any, I suppose," Clark said as he reached under the sofa and pulled out a wrapped box, smiling over at her as he did so.

Looked at him in surprise as he handed over the brightly colored package, Lois tore into the wrapping with childish enthusiasm. When she pulled the lid off the box inside, she saw that it contained a photo album. It was thick; it had to have taken ages to track down all of the pictures and hours to compile them.

"Clark, it's…beautiful," she breathed as she cracked it open and started to look through the pages. She dimly registered Clark's movement as he moved closer to her and looked over her shoulder as she slowly turned the pages and gazed at the series of photographs. They seemed to have been put together more or less in chronological order; a visual record of the course of her relationship with Clark over the years they'd known each other.

Some of the pictures were amusing – particularly the ones on the first few pages, taken during the first couple of years after they'd met. Most of those were group shots and included either the rest of the Kent family or various friends they'd had at the time. There was one particularly nice shot of Lois standing next to Mr. Kent, smiling proudly into the camera; it looked like it was taken during her stint as his campaign manager. Another showed a whole group of people gathered around a table at the Talon, drinking coffee. Lois was sitting on one side of the table, next to Lana. Clark was on the other, Chloe beside him. They were all beaming at the camera, appearing to be genuinely happy. This, Lois realized, was somewhat unusual, as in most of the rest of the pictures on the first few pages, she and Clark both looked almost physically pained to be posing together. One in particular made her burst out in laughter. The two of them were smiling at the camera, but she would have bet the photo was taken in the midst of one of the many bickering arguments she and Clark had gotten into during their early years. She was smirking in self-satisfaction, and he was clearly gritting his teeth, only barely refraining from rolling his eyes for the few seconds Mrs. Kent had asked them to pose.

After a few pages, Lois came across a picture of her standing between Mrs. Kent and Clark. Everyone was smiling, but there was a slight tinge of sadness on their faces, as well. In the background, she could see the little red car she'd had in college, and she realized this was one of the photographs Mrs. Kent had taken the day Lois had moved to Metropolis.

She couldn't believe the effort Clark must have taken to gather all these images of the past the two of them had shared. He even had a few from the years they'd spent apart – photographs of college graduations and one of Lois standing next to Chloe and grinning like a lunatic on the day she got the job at the Daily Planet.

Lois felt her throat tighten as her husband's gift brought back so many memories, both good and bad. Images of her and Clark working together – candid shots Jimmy must have taken in the newsroom – that showed the obvious tension that had existed at first between the newly assigned partners. In a number of these early photographs, Clark had a very familiar long-suffering look on his face. Looking at these snapshots, Lois almost blushed with embarrassment when she remembered how she'd behaved to Clark when they first began to work together, but then came a series of images that made her so incredibly proud to have been allowed to work with the man next to her.

There were pictures of events big and small – of award ceremonies and evenings the two of them spent going blind staring at a computer screen, working on a story. One showed Lois proudly displaying the front-page article with her byline that scooped the story of the world's newest superhero. If only the girl in the photo knew what she knew now, she probably wouldn't have been self-satisfied that she'd managed to get the story without her partner's help. Another showed the two of them hugging tightly after one of their investigations had gone horribly wrong and Lois had thought she had lost her partner forever.

"Clark, I can't believe you kept these!" she murmured as she fingered the two ticket stubs to the botanical gardens that he'd carefully pasted at the bottom of one page.

With a soft smile, he replied, "Of course I did. I'd been waiting for that day for a long time. I went on the best date of my life, and the night we shared our first kiss. Did you think I was going to lose any memento of that evening?"

Lois chuckled at the memory. "Are you kidding? After the grace I displayed as I almost took the both of us out under that tree? I'm still amazed you didn't run screaming in the other direction," she joked with a grin.

"Yeah, well…I thought about it," he returned in the same tone, "But I was too busy worrying that I'd somehow blow the moment. I thought my nervousness would cause me to start floating three feet off the ground or suddenly lose control of my heat vision."

Lois laughed aloud. "Well, I have to say, setting me on fire would have definitely put a damper in our evening," she said as she looked down at the book in her lap once more.

"Where did you get all of these?" she asked in wonder as she looked at picture after picture. Some of them had to have been pilfered from the box under her bed, and some of them she recognized from being on display at the Kent Farmhouse. She smiled softly as she gently stroked a picture that Chloe had taken at Mrs. Kent's birthday party, shortly after the two of them had begun dating.

Before he could answer, she turned the page and saw a slip of paper pasted at the bottom. "What's this?" she asked as she carefully unfolded it; it was incredibly dog-eared and had clearly been handled so many times that the paper was almost transparent. She could barely read the words written inside:

_Clark, I know you told me you'd drive me to the airport, but I didn't want to wake you. Don't worry; I'll give you a call once I get to Lucy's and let you know that I got there okay._

_About last night…don't worry so much about what the future has in store for the two of us. I told you once that I didn't think there was such a thing as fate, but I think now that I may have been wrong. I don't know if I was meant to do much in this world, but I do believe I was destined to love you. So how can anything that happens in the future be more important than that?_

_I'll miss you, handsome. Be back before you know it._

_L._

"It's…Clark, what…?" she began, looking at the man on the couch next to her.

Clearing his throat, Clark looked at her out of the corner of his eye as he answered the question she couldn't quite articulate. "You wrote that to me once, remember?"

"I remember," she replied. "It was just…I mean, it was a stupid little note I wrote while I was running out the door because you'd been so upset the night before. Why did you…I mean, I never thought you wouldn't have thrown it away."

Shrugging, he said, "I loved that note. When I woke up that morning and saw it on the pillow next to me, I…I had to have read it a hundred times. Maybe more. I put it in my wallet and read it every five minutes when I…when I stupidly pushed you away."

"Oh, Clark," she said softly as she leaned over and gave him a kiss.

Looking both a little embarrassed by his admission and saddened by the recollection of their breakup, he returned the gesture and then nodded at the book still lying open on her lap. "Anyway, you haven't finished looked at your gift."

Glancing down at the album once more, Lois gave her husband time to regain his composure as she turned the page. She grinned as she realized the next few pictures were taken the weekend they got engaged. Though he was smiling in all of the photos, she marveled at the slight changes in her husband that were only apparent once you looked at the images as a series. Only someone who knew him really well would probably be able to tell, but there was just something a little different about him in the ones taken in the latter part of the weekend. Clark looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was a fraction more relaxed, his smile just a bit wider. She had rarely seen him look so…content.

She'd thought she'd known how much it had meant to him to be able to finally share his secret with her, but she hadn't realized just how subtly keeping it had affected him.

When she looked at the next two images, however, these thoughts were driven from her mind as she let out a surprised bark of laughter. "Clark!" she cried, her cheeks reddening. "I can't believe you put these in here! What if someone looks at this album?"

They were taken the morning the two of them had returned to Metropolis after their engagement. The first picture was one she'd taken of Clark standing in the kitchen of the first apartment they'd shared together. He was leaning against the counter and smirking at the camera with an expression that clearly said, "Come on. You know you think I'm sexy." The next showed her in the same kitchen a short while later. She was wearing the same shirt (and possibly nothing else, if the photo – and her memory – gave any indication), smirking at Clark over her shoulder as he took the picture. The look on her face gave a pretty clear suggestion as to what had transpired in the intervening time.

"You're a horrible, horrible man," she grumbled as her blush deepened. "I should never have told you what your plaid shirts do to me."

Clark chuckled. "Oh, I don't mind. I think I might go put one on now, in fact," he whispered suggestively in her ear, and she paused to punch him lightly on the shoulder.

"One of these days, I'm going to become immune, and then you'll lose any power you have over me. And then what are you going to do?" she challenged, but even as she said the words, she knew they would probably never be true. "Anyway, that's not going to work on me tonight, Mister. Consider it my revenge for earlier."

She watched as an exaggerated pout crossed his face, and she bit back a smile as she turned her attention back to the album on her lap, ignoring him for the moment. She flipped through the next few pages of the two of them at various stages of their engagement until, finally, she came to some of the photos of their wedding that Clark had included.

Even now, looking at the photos, Lois felt the almost overwhelming joy of that day. She doubted if she'd ever stop marveling at the fact that, with all the people in the world, the two of them had found each other. That he'd fallen in love with her and, even more remarkable, that she'd finally seen what had been staring her in the face all along was still something of a miracle.

He'd picked some of her favorite moments from that day to include – her, standing with both Chloe and Lucy before the ceremony, the kiss her father had brushed against her cheek as he gave her away, the hug she'd exchanged with Martha at the reception, the last dance she and Clark had shared.

Finally, on the last page, Lois saw a few pictures taken in the last couple of months with the first Thanksgiving and Christmas that she and Clark had spent as man and wife. The first made her laugh to remember when it was taken. Lois was jealously guarding Mrs. Kent's pumpkin pie, her arms extended in front of her to keep the plate out of Clark's reach as he tried to grab it from behind.

The last picture in the album was one of the two of them curled up on Mrs. Kent's couch, taking a nap together. The lights from the Christmas tree casting a colorful glow around the two of them as she snuggled against Clark's chest, her head on his shoulder.

Closing the book, Lois tried to find the words to tell her husband how much his thoughtfulness meant to her, but she was speechless. She couldn't have imagined a more perfect gift. Many of the pictures Clark had put in the album showed the obvious affection they now held for each other. Some of them made it clear that their relationship hadn't always been easy. But Lois loved all of them, because they reminded her that the love they had for one another hadn't happened in an instantaneous bolt of lightning. It had come upon them both so gradually that they hadn't even known their hearts were in danger until it was too late to do anything about it.

"So, do you like it?" Clark as softly as she stared in silence at the book in her hands for a while.

"It's…I don't even know what to say, Clark. It's amazing. Thank you," she said softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. "I can't believe you went through all that trouble. It must have taken forever to do all this."

"Well, I had some help in the form of numerous donations by our friends and family. But, if it's all the same to you, I'll take all the credit, thanks." As he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest, he asked teasingly, "So…what do you think? Looking back at all those pictures, it's almost hard to believe that you and I ended up together at all. We certainly didn't have the conventional courtship, did we?"

"Nah. I made you work for it pretty hard, didn't I?" Lois asked with a smirk, but she giggled when Clark made a scoffing sound behind her.

"I don't know if I'd say that. To my recollection, after our first date, it seemed like you were the one who practically flung yourself around my ankles and begged me to take you home with me."

"Oh, in your dreams, Smallville!" she retorted, elbowing him in the ribs. "You know you hit the jackpot the day I agreed to marry you."

"Yeah," he agreed softly. "I know."

"But you know what?" she asked, turning her head to look at him. "So did I." Then she Leaned forward, reacheing for her mug of rapidly cooling cocoa, and felt breeze past her cheek. When she turned to give Clark a curious look, she saw that was relaxing against the back of the couch, an innocent expression on his face. She'd have thought he didn't move at all, except that he was now wearing one of his old flannel plaid shirts. "So, Mrs. Kent…you were saying something about being able to resist me?" he challenged as he smirked at her.

Lois bit her lower lip and tried to keep her breathing even as she lied, "Yup. Not feeling a thing."

"So it won't bother you at all if we just sit here together and watch television for a while?" he asked as he stretched his legs out lazily, linking his hands behind his head as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Nope," she replied, trying to force her attention to the images running across the screen. She was not going to cave to her husband's manipulation. Not that easily, at least. Still, she couldn't stop herself from shifting uncomfortably as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. She could tell she wasn't fooling him at all, however, when he smirked.

Well, two could play that game. Sure, he knew her weaknesses, but she also knew his. Standing, she feigned a lazy stretch and said, "Well, I think I'll turn in. Don't stay up too late." She almost laughed when she saw the flabbergasted look on his face, but then it slowly dissolved into one of anticipation. She could tell he knew she was up to something, but he didn't try to stop her.

Trying to maintain her air of nonchalance, she strolled to the bedroom, where she hurredly changed clothes. Stripping off her pajamas, she quickly pulled on the white dress shirt he'd been wearing earlier that day and then walked back into the living room. Now they'd see who couldn't resist whom. "You coming?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

He grinned as he rose to his feet and strolled over to where she was standing. "You know, that's not exactly playing fair," he told her sternly as they reached for each other.

"What can I say? I fight dirty," she replied unrepentantly as she grabbed a handful of his shirt and tugged until his lips met hers. As the embrace continued, he bent and scooped her into his arms, carrying her back into the bedroom.

Later, as they lay in bed together Lois turned to glance at the clock. "12:30," she murmured through a yawn to the man beside her. "Happy New Year, Smallville."

Nuzzling her ear, he replied softly, "Happy New Year to you, Metropolis. Do you think there's any chance this year can be anywhere near as perfect as the last one?"

"Oh, I don't know, Clark," she replied as she linked her fingers in his and rested their hands against her stomach. Looking down at their entwined fingers, she smiled softly, almost secretly, as she murmured, "But I bet you'd be surprised."


End file.
